Percy Jackson and the Olympians: the lightning thief

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 quest."

 

"This must be reported to Olympus," Chiron murmured. "I will go at once."

 

"Luke is out there right now," I said. "I have to go after him." Chiron shook his head. "No, Percy. The gods—"

 

"Won't even talk about Kronos," I snapped. "Zeus declared the matter closed!"

 

"Percy, I know this is hard. But you must not rush out for vengeance. You aren't ready." I didn't like it, but part of me suspected Chiron was right. One look at my hand, and I knew I wasn't going to be sword fighting any time soon. "Chiron ... your prophecy from the Oracle ... it was about Kronos, wasn't it? Was I in it? And Annabeth?"

 

Chiron glanced nervously at the ceiling. "Percy, it isn't my place—"

 

"You've been ordered not to talk to me about it, haven't you?" His eyes were sympathetic, but sad. "You will be a great hero, child. I will do my best to prepare you. But if I'm right about the path ahead of you ..."

 

Thunder boomed overhead, rattling the windows.

 

"All right!" Chiron shouted. "Fine!"

 

He sighed in frustration. "The gods have their reasons, Percy. Knowing too much of your future is never a good thing."

 

"We can't just sit back and do nothing," I said.

 

" We will not sit back," Chiron promised. "But you must be careful. Kronos wants you to come unraveled. He wants your life disrupted, your thoughts clouded with fear and anger. Do not give him what he wants. Train patiently. Your time will come."

 

"Assuming I live that long."

 

Chiron put his hand on my ankle. "You'll have to trust me, Percy. You will live. But first you must decide your path for the coming year. I cannot tell you the right choice...." I got the feeling that he had a very definite opinion, and it was taking all his willpower not to advise me. "But you must decide whether to stay at Camp HalfBlood year-round, or return to the mortal world for seventh grade and be a summer camper. Think on that. When I get back from Olympus, you must tell me your decision."

 

I wanted to protest. I wanted to ask him more questions. But his expression told me there could be no more discussion; he had said as much as he could.

 

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Chiron promised. "Argus will watch over you." He glanced at Annabeth. "Oh, and, my dear ... whenever you're ready, they're here."

 

"Who's here?" I asked.

 

Nobody answered.

 

Chiron rolled himself out of the room. I heard the wheels of his chair clunk carefully down the front steps, two at a time.

 

Annabeth studied the ice in my drink.

 

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

 

"Nothing." She set the glass on the table. "I … just took your advice about something. You

 

… um … need anything?"

 

"Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside."

 

"Percy, that isn't a good idea."

 

I slid my legs out of bed. Annabeth caught me before I could crumple to the floor. A wave of nausea rolled over me.

 

Annabeth said, "I told you …"

 

"I'm fine," I insisted. I didn't want to lie in bed like an invalid while Luke was out there planning to destroy the Western world.

 

I managed a step forward. Then another, still leaning heavily on Annabeth. Argus followed us outside, but he kept his distance.

 

By the time we reached the porch, my face was beaded with sweat. My stomach had twisted into knots. But I had managed to make it all the way to the railing.

 

It was dusk. The camp looked completely deserted. The cabins were dark and the volleyball pit silent. No canoes cut the surface of the lake. Beyond the woods and the strawberry fields, the Long Island Sound glittered in the last light of the sun.

 

"What are you going to do?" Annabeth asked me.

 

Rick Riordan's books