The Last Olympian

but her legs were pinned under the statue.
    We tried desperately to move it, but it would’ve taken several Cyclopes. When we tried to pull Thalia out from under it, she yelled in pain.
    “I survive all those battles,” she growled, “and I get defeated by a stupid chunk of rock!”
    “It’s Hera,” Annabeth said in outrage. “She’s had it in for me all year. Her statue would’ve killed me if you hadn’t pushed us away.”
    Thalia grimaced. “Well, don’t just stand there! I’ll be fine. Go!”
    We didn’t want to leave her, but I could hear Kronos laughing as he approached the hall of the gods. More buildings exploded.
    “We’ll be back,” I promised.
    “I’m not going anywhere,” Thalia groaned.
    A fireball erupted on the side of the mountain, right near the gates of the palace.
    “We’ve got to run,” I said.
    “I don’t suppose you mean away ,” Grover murmured hopefully.
    I sprinted toward the palace, Annabeth right behind me.
    “I was afraid of that,” Grover sighed, and clip-clopped after us.
    The doors of the palace were big enough to steer a cruise ship through, but they’d been ripped off their hinges and smashed like they weighed nothing. We had to climb over a huge pile of broken stone and twisted metal to get inside.
    Kronos stood in the middle of the throne room, his arms wide, staring at the starry ceiling as if taking it all in. His laughter echoed even louder than it had from the pit of Tartarus.
    “Finally!” he bellowed. “The Olympian Council—so proud and mighty. Which seat of power shall I destroy first?”
    Ethan Nakamura stood to one side, trying to stay out of the way of his master’s scythe. The hearth was almost dead, just a few coals glowing deep in the ashes. Hestia was nowhere to be seen. Neither was Rachel. I hoped she was okay, but I’d seen so much destruction I was afraid to think about it. The Ophiotaurus swam in his water sphere in the far corner of the room, wisely not making a sound, but it wouldn’t be long before Kronos noticed him.
    Annabeth, Grover, and I stepped forward into the torchlight. Ethan saw us first.
    “My lord,” he warned.
    Kronos turned and smiled through Luke’s face. Except for the golden eyes, he looked just the same as he had four years ago when he’d welcomed me into the Hermes cabin. Annabeth made a painful sound in the back of her throat, like someone had just sucker punched her.
    “Shall I destroy you first, Jackson?” Kronos asked. “Is that the choice you will make—to fight me and die instead of bowing down? Prophecies never end well, you know.”
    “Luke would fight with a sword,” I said. “But I suppose you don’t have his skill.”
    Kronos sneered. His scythe began to change, until he held Luke’s old weapon, Backbiter, with its half-steel, half-Celestial bronze blade.
    Next to me, Annabeth gasped like she’d suddenly had an idea. “Percy, the blade!” She unsheathed her knife. “A hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap.”
    I didn’t understand why she was reminding me of that prophecy line right now. It wasn’t exactly a morale booster, but before I could say anything, Kronos raised his sword.
    “Wait!” Annabeth yelled.
    Kronos came at me like a whirlwind.
    My instincts took over. I dodged and slashed and rolled, but I felt like I was fighting a hundred swordsmen. Ethan ducked to one side, trying to get behind me until Annabeth intercepted him. They started to fight, but I couldn’t focus on how she was doing. I was vaguely aware of Grover playing his reed pipes. The sound filled me with warmth and courage—thoughts of sunlight and a blue sky and a calm meadow, somewhere far away from the war.
    Kronos backed me up against the throne of Hephaestus—a huge mechanical La-Z-Boy type thing covered with bronze and silver gears. Kronos slashed, and I managed to jump straight up onto the seat. The throne whirred and hummed with secret mechanisms. Defense mode , it warned. Defense mode.
    That couldn’t be good. I jumped straight over Kronos’s head as the throne shot tendrils of electricity in all directions. One hit Kronos in the face, arcing down his body and up his sword.
    “ARG!” He crumpled to his knees and dropped Backbiter.
    Annabeth saw her chance. She kicked Ethan out of the way and charged Kronos. “Luke, listen!”
    I wanted to shout at her, to tell her she was crazy for trying to reason with Kronos, but there was no time. Kronos flicked his hand. Annabeth flew backward,