The Lightning Thief

fail again. Back at Camp Half-Blood, in my dreams, I was told that a second hero would arrive, one who could be tricked into taking the bolt and the helm the rest of the way—from Ares down to Tartarus.”
    “ You summoned the hellhound, that night in the forest.”
    “We had to make Chiron think the camp wasn’t safe for you, so he would start you on your quest. We had to confirm his fears that Hades was after you. And it worked.”
    “The flying shoes were cursed,” I said. “They were supposed to drag me and the backpack into Tartarus.”
    “And they would have, if you’d been wearing them. But you gave them to the satyr, which wasn’t part of the plan. Grover messes up everything he touches. He even confused the curse.”
    Luke looked down at the scorpion, which was now sitting on my thigh. “You should have died in Tartarus, Percy. But don’t worry, I’ll leave you with my little friend to set things right.”
    “Thalia gave her life to save you,” I said, gritting my teeth. “And this is how you repay her?”
    “Don’t speak of Thalia!” he shouted. “The gods let her die! That’s one of the many things they will pay for.”
    “You’re being used, Luke. You and Ares both. Don’t listen to Kronos.”
    “ I’ve been used?” Luke’s voice turned shrill. “Look at yourself. What has your dad ever done for you? Kronos will rise. You’ve only delayed his plans. He will cast the Olympians into Tartarus and drive humanity back to their caves. All except the strongest—the ones who serve him.”
    “Call off the bug,” I said. “If you’re so strong, fight me yourself.”
    Luke smiled. “Nice try, Percy. But I’m not Ares. You can’t bait me. My lord is waiting, and he’s got plenty of quests for me to undertake.”
    “Luke—”
    “Good-bye, Percy. There is a new Golden Age coming. You won’t be part of it.”
    He slashed his sword in an arc and disappeared in a ripple of darkness.
    The scorpion lunged.
    I swatted it away with my hand and uncapped my sword. The thing jumped at me and I cut it in half in midair.
    I was about to congratulate myself until I looked down at my hand. My palm had a huge red welt, oozing and smoking with yellow guck. The thing had gotten me after all.
    My ears pounded. My vision went foggy. The water, I thought. It healed me before.
    I stumbled to the creek and submerged my hand, but nothing seemed to happen. The poison was too strong. My vision was getting dark. I could barely stand up.
    Sixty seconds , Luke had told me.
    I had to get back to camp. If I collapsed out here, my body would be dinner for a monster. Nobody would ever know what had happened.
    My legs felt like lead. My forehead was burning. I stumbled toward the camp, and the nymphs stirred from their trees.
    “Help,” I croaked. “Please . . .”
    Two of them took my arms, pulling me along. I remember making it to the clearing, a counselor shouting for help, a centaur blowing a conch horn.
    Then everything went black.
    * * *
    I woke with a drinking straw in my mouth. I was sipping something that tasted like liquid chocolate-chip cookies. Nectar.
    I opened my eyes.
    I was propped up in bed in the sickroom of the Big House, my right hand bandaged like a club. Argus stood guard in the corner. Annabeth sat next to me, holding my nectar glass and dabbing a washcloth on my forehead.
    “Here we are again,” I said.
    “You idiot,” Annabeth said, which is how I knew she was overjoyed to see me conscious. “You were green and turning gray when we found you. If it weren’t for Chiron’s healing . . .”
    “Now, now,” Chiron’s voice said. “Percy’s constitution deserves some of the credit.”
    He was sitting near the foot of my bed in human form, which was why I hadn’t noticed him yet. His lower half was magically compacted into the wheelchair, his upper half dressed in a coat and tie. He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale, the way it did when he’d been up all night grading Latin papers.
    “How are you feeling?” he asked.
    “Like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved.”
    “Apt, considering that was pit scorpion venom. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened.”
    Between sips of nectar, I told them the story.
    The room was quiet for a long time.
    “I can’t believe that Luke . . .” Annabeth’s voice faltered. Her expression turned angry and sad. “Yes. Yes, I can believe it. May the gods curse him. . . . He was never the same after his