The Lightning Thief

sword-fighters arena and found that Luke had had the same idea. His gym bag was plopped at the edge of the stage. He was working solo, whaling on battle dummies with a sword I’d never seen before. It must’ve been a regular steel blade, because he was slashing the dummies’ heads right off, stabbing through their straw-stuffed guts. His orange counselor’s shirt was dripping with sweat. His expression was so intense, his life might’ve really been in danger. I watched, fascinated, as he disemboweled the whole row of dummies, hacking off limbs and basically reducing them to a pile of straw and armor.
    They were only dummies, but I still couldn’t help being awed by Luke’s skill. The guy was an incredible fighter. It made me wonder, again, how he possibly could’ve failed at his quest.
    Finally, he saw me, and stopped mid-swing. “Percy.”
    “Um, sorry,” I said, embarrassed. “I just—”
    “It’s okay,” he said, lowering his sword. “Just doing some last-minute practice.”
    “Those dummies won’t be bothering anybody anymore.”
    Luke shrugged. “We build new ones every summer.”
    Now that his sword wasn’t swirling around, I could see something odd about it. The blade was two different types of metal—one edge bronze, the other steel.
    Luke noticed me looking at it. “Oh, this? New toy. This is Backbiter.”
    “Backbiter?”
    Luke turned the blade in the light so it glinted wickedly. “One side is celestial bronze. The other is tempered steel. Works on mortals and immortals both.”
    I thought about what Chiron had told me when I started my quest—that a hero should never harm mortals unless absolutely necessary.
    “I didn’t know they could make weapons like that.”
    “ They probably can’t,” Luke agreed. “It’s one of a kind.”
    He gave me a tiny smile, then slid the sword into its scabbard. “Listen, I was going to come looking for you.
    What do you say we go down to the woods one last time, look for something to fight?”
    I don’t know why I hesitated. I should’ve felt relieved that Luke was being so friendly. Ever since I’d gotten back from the quest, he’d been acting a little distant. I was afraid he might resent me for all the attention I’d gotten.
    “You think it’s a good idea?” I asked. “I mean—”
    “Aw, come on.” He rummaged in his gym bag and pulled out a six-pack of Cokes. “Drinks are on me.”
    I stared at the Cokes, wondering where the heck he’d gotten them. There were no regular mortal sodas at the camp store. No way to smuggle them in unless you talked to a satyr, maybe.
    Of course, the magic dinner goblets would fill with anything you want, but it just didn’t taste the same as a real Coke, straight out of the can.
    Sugar and caffeine. My willpower crumbled.
    “Sure,” I decided. “Why not?”
    We walked down to the woods and kicked around for some kind of monster to fight, but it was too hot. All the monsters with any sense must’ve been taking siestas in their nice cool caves.
    We found a shady spot by the creek where I’d broken Clarisse’s spear during my first capture the flag game. We sat on a big rock, drank our Cokes, and watched the sunlight in the woods.
    After a while Luke said, “You miss being on a quest?”
    “With monsters attacking me every three feet? Are you kidding?”
    Luke raised an eyebrow.
    “Yeah, I miss it,” I admitted. “You?”
    A shadow passed over his face.
    I was used to hearing from the girls how good-looking Luke was, but at the moment, he looked weary, and angry, and not at all handsome. His blond hair was gray in the sunlight. The scar on his face looked deeper than usual. I could imagine him as an old man.
    “I’ve lived at Half-Blood Hill year-round since I was fourteen,” he told me. “Ever since Thalia . . . well, you know. I trained, and trained, and trained. I never got to be a normal teenager, out there in the real world. Then they threw me one quest, and when I came back, it was like, ‘Okay, ride’s over. Have a nice life.’”
    He crumpled his Coke can and threw into the creek, which really shocked me. One of the first things you learn at Camp Half-Blood is: Don’t litter. You’ll hear from the nymphs and the naiads. They’ll get even. You’ll crawl into bed one night and find your sheets filled with centipedes and mud.
    “The heck with laurel wreaths,” Luke said. “I’m not going to end up like those dusty trophies in the Big House attic.”
    “You make it