The Lightning Thief

killing me, either.
    I got up the courage to ask, “What is my destiny?”
    The mist swirled more thickly, collecting right in front of me and around the table with the pickled monster-part jars. Suddenly there were four men sitting around the table, playing cards. Their faces became clearer. It was Smelly Gabe and his buddies.
    My fists clenched, though I knew this poker party couldn’t be real. It was an illusion, made out of mist.
    Gabe turned toward me and spoke in the rasping voice of the Oracle: You shall go west, and face the god who has turned.
    His buddy on the right looked up and said in the same voice: You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned.
    The guy on the left threw in two poker chips, then said: You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.
    Finally, Eddie, our building super, delivered the worst line of all: And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end.
    The figures began to dissolve. At first I was too stunned to say anything, but as the mist retreated, coiling into a huge green serpent and slithering back into the mouth of the mummy, I cried, “Wait! What do you mean? What friend? What will I fail to save?”
    The tail of the mist snake disappeared into the mummy’s mouth. She reclined back against the wall. Her mouth closed tight, as if it hadn’t been open in a hundred years. The attic was silent again, abandoned, nothing but a room full of mementos.
    I got the feeling that I could stand here until I had cobwebs, too, and I wouldn’t learn anything else.
    My audience with the Oracle was over.
    “Well?” Chiron asked me.
    I slumped into a chair at the pinochle table. “She said I would retrieve what was stolen.”
    Grover sat forward, chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. “That’s great!”
    “What did the Oracle say exactly ?” Chiron pressed. “This is important.”
    My ears were still tingling from the reptilian voice. “She . . . she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned.”
    “I knew it,” Grover said.
    Chiron didn’t look satisfied. “Anything else?”
    I didn’t want to tell him.
    What friend would betray me? I didn’t have that many.
    And the last line—I would fail to save what mattered most. What kind of Oracle would send me on a quest and tell me, Oh, by the way, you’ll fail.
    How could I confess that?
    “No,” I said. “That’s about it.”
    He studied my face. “Very well, Percy. But know this: the Oracle’s words often have double meanings. Don’t dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass.”
    I got the feeling he knew I was holding back something bad, and he was trying to make me feel better.
    “Okay,” I said, anxious to change topics. “So where do I go? Who’s this god in the west?”
    “Ah, think, Percy,” Chiron said. “If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?”
    “Somebody else who wants to take over?” I guessed.
    “Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken.”
    I thought about my dreams, the evil voice that had spoken from under the ground. “Hades.”
    Chiron nodded. “The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility.”
    A scrap of aluminum dribbled out of Grover’s mouth. “Whoa, wait. Wh-what?”
    “A Fury came after Percy,” Chiron reminded him. “She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades.”
    “Yes, but—but Hades hates all heroes,” Grover protested. “Especially if he has found out Percy is a son of Poseidon. . . .”
    “A hellhound got into the forest,” Chiron continued. “Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will try to use Percy to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on the quest.”
    “Great,” I muttered. “That’s two major gods who want to kill me.”
    “But a quest to . . .” Grover swallowed. “I mean, couldn’t the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine’s very nice this time of