A FRIEND SAYS GOOD-BYE
We landed at Crissy Field after nightfall.
As soon as Dr. Chase stepped out of his Sopwith Camel, Annabeth ran to him and gave him a huge hug. “Dad! You flew…you shot…oh my gods! That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!”
Her father blushed. “Well, not bad for a middle-aged mortal, I suppose.”
“But the celestial bronze bullets! How did you get those?”
“Ah, well. You did leave quite a few half-blood weapons in your room in Virginia, the last time you…left.”
Annabeth looked down, embarrassed. I noticed Dr. Chase was very careful not to say ran away.
“I decided to try melting some down to make bullet casings,” he continued. “Just a little experiment.”
He said it like it was no big deal, but he had a gleam in his eye. I could understand all of a sudden why Athena, Goddess of Crafts and Wisdom, had taken a liking to him. He was an excellent mad scientist at heart.
“Dad…” Annabeth faltered.
“Annabeth, Percy,” Thalia interrupted. Her voice was urgent. She and Artemis were kneeling at Zoë’s side, binding the huntress’s wounds.
Annabeth and I ran over to help, but there wasn’t much we could do.
We had no ambrosia or nectar. No regular medicine would help. It was dark, but I could see that Zoë didn’t look good. She was shivering, and the faint glow that usually hung around her was fading.
“Can’t you heal her with magic?” I asked Artemis. “I mean…you’re a goddess.”
Artemis looked troubled. “Life is a fragile thing, Percy. If the Fates will the string to be cut, there is little I can do. But I can try.”
She tried to set her hand on Zoë’s side, but Zoë gripped her wrist. She looked into the goddess’s eyes, and some kind of understanding passed between them.
“Have I…served thee well?” Zoë whispered.
“With great honor,” Artemis said softly. “The finest of my attendants.”
Zoë’s face relaxed. “Rest. At last.”
“I can try to heal the poison, my brave one.”
But in that moment, I knew it wasn’t just the poison that was killing her. It was her father’s final blow. Zoë had known all along that the Oracle’s prophecy was about her: she would die by a parent’s hand. And yet she’d taken the quest anyway. She had chosen to save me, and Atlas’s fury had broken her inside.
She saw Thalia, and took her hand.
“I am sorry we argued,” Zoë said. “We could have been sisters.” “It’s my fault,” Thalia said, blinking hard. “You were right about
Luke, about heroes, men—everything.”
“Perhaps not all men,” Zoë murmured. She smiled weakly at me. “Do you still have the sword, Percy?”
I couldn’t speak, but I brought out Riptide and put the pen in her hand. She grasped it contentedly. “You spoke the truth, Percy Jackson. You are nothing like…like Hercules. I am honored that you carry this sword.”
A shudder ran through her body. “Zoë—” I said.
“Stars,” she whispered. “I can see the stars again, my lady.”
A tear trickled down Artemis’s cheek. “Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight.”
“Stars,” Zoë repeated. Her eyes fixed on the night sky. And she did not move again.
Thalia lowered her head. Annabeth gulped down a sob, and her father put his hands on her shoulders. I watched as Artemis cupped her hand
above Zoë’s mouth and spoke a few words in Ancient Greek. A silvery wisp of smoke exhaled from Zoë’s lips and was caught in the hand of the goddess. Zoë’s body shimmered and disappeared.
Artemis stood, said a kind of blessing, breathed into her cupped hand and released the silver dust to the sky. It flew up, sparkling, and vanished.
For a moment I didn’t see anything different. Then Annabeth gasped. Looking up in the sky, I saw that the stars were brighter now. They made a pattern I had never noticed before—a gleaming constellation that looked a lot like a girl’s figure—a girl with a bow, running across the sky.
“Let the world honor you, my Huntress,” Artemis said. “Live forever in the stars.”
It wasn’t easy saying our good-byes. The thunder and lightning were still boiling over Mount Tamalpais in the north. Artemis was so upset she flickered with silver light. This made me nervous, because if she suddenly lost control and appeared in her fully divine form, we would disintegrate by looking at her.
“I must go to Olympus immediately,” Artemis said. “I will not be able to take you, but I will send help.”
The goddess set her hand on Annabeth’s shoulder. “You are brave beyond measure, my girl. You will do what is right.”
Then she looked quizzically at Thalia, as if she weren’t sure what to make of this younger daughter of Zeus. Thalia seemed reluctant to look up, but something made her, and she held the goddess’s eyes. I wasn’t sure what passed between them, but Artemis’s gaze softened with sympathy.
Then she turned to me.
“You did well,” she said. “For a man.”
I wanted to protest. But then I realized it was the first time she hadn’t called me a boy.
She mounted her chariot, which began to glow. We averted our eyes.
There was a flash of silver, and the goddess was gone.
“Well,” Dr. Chase sighed. “She was impressive; though I must say I still prefer Athena.”
Annabeth turned toward him. “Dad, I…I’m sorry that—”
“Shh.” He hugged her. “Do what you must, my dear. I know this isn’t easy for you.”
His voice was a little shaky, but he gave Annabeth a brave smile.
Then I heard the whoosh of large wings. Three pegasi descended through the fog: two white winged horses and one pure black one.
“Blackjack!” I called.
Yo, boss! he called. You manage to stay alive okay without me?
“It was rough,” I admitted.
I brought Guido and Porkpie with me.
How ya doin? The other two pegasi spoke in my mind.
Blackjack looked me over with concern, then checked out Dr. Chase, Thalia, and Annabeth. Any of these goons you want us to stampede?
“Nah,” I said aloud. “These are my friends. We need to get to Olympus pretty fast.”
No problem, Blackjack said. Except for the mortal over there. Hope he’s not going.
I assured him Dr. Chase was not. The professor was staring openmouthed at the pegasi.
“Fascinating,” he said. “Such maneuverability! How does the wingspan compensate for the weight of the horse’s body, I wonder?”
Blackjack cocked his head. Whaaaat?
“Why, if the British had had these pegasi in the cavalry charges on the Crimea,” Dr. Chase said, “the charge of the light brigade—”
“Dad!” Annabeth interrupted.
Dr. Chase blinked. He looked at his daughter and managed a smile. “I’m sorry, my dear. I know you must go.”
He gave her one last awkward, well-meaning hug. As she turned to climb aboard the pegasus Guido, Dr. Chase called, “Annabeth. I know…I know San Francisco is a dangerous place for you. But please remember, you always have a home with us. We will keep you safe.”
Annabeth didn’t answer, but her eyes were red as she turned away.
Dr. Chase started to say more, then apparently thought better of it. He raised his hand in a sad farewell and trudged away across the dark field.
Thalia and Annabeth and I mounted our pegasi. Together we soared over the bay and flew toward the eastern hills. Soon San Francisco was only a glittering crescent behind us, with an occasional flicker of lightning in the north.
Thalia was so exhausted she fell asleep on Porkpie’s back. I knew she had to be really tired to sleep in the air, despite her fear of heights, but she didn’t have much to worry about. Her pegasus flew with ease, adjusting himself every once in a while so Thalia stayed safely on his back.
Annabeth and I flew along side by side. “Your dad seems cool,” I told her.
It was too dark to see her expression. She looked back, even though California was far behind us now.
“I guess so,” she said. “We’ve been arguing for so many years.” “Yeah, you said.”
“You think I was lying about that?” It sounded like a challenge, but a pretty halfhearted one, like she was asking it of herself.
“I didn’t say you were lying. It’s just…he seems okay. Your stepmom, too. Maybe they’ve, uh, gotten cooler since you saw them last.”
She hesitated. “They’re still in San Francisco, Percy. I can’t live so far from camp.”
I didn’t want to ask my next question. I was scared to know the answer. But I asked it anyway. “So what are you going to do now?”
We flew over a town, an island of lights in the middle of the dark. It whisked by so fast we might’ve been in an airplane.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But thank you for rescuing me.” “Hey, no big deal. We’re friends.”
“You didn’t believe I was dead?” “Never.”
She hesitated. “Neither is Luke, you know. I mean…he isn’t dead.”
I stared at her. I didn’t know if she was cracking under the stress or what. “Annabeth, that fall was pretty bad. There’s no way—”
“He isn’t dead,” she insisted. “I know it. The same way you knew about me.”
That comparison didn’t make me too happy.
The towns were zipping by faster now, islands of light thicker together, until the whole landscape below was a glittering carpet. Dawn was close. The eastern sky was turning gray. And up ahead, a huge white- and-yellow glow spread out before us—the lights of New York.
How’s that for speedy, boss? Blackjack bragged. We get extra hay for breakfast or what?
“You’re the man, Blackjack,” I told him. “Er, the horse, I mean.” “You don’t believe me about Luke,” Annabeth said, “but we’ll see
him again. He’s in trouble, Percy. He’s under Kronos’s spell.”
I didn’t feel like arguing, though it made me mad. How could she still have any feelings for that creep? How could she possibly make excuses for him? He deserved that fall. He deserved…okay, I’ll say it. He deserved to die. Unlike Bianca. Unlike Zoë. Luke couldn’t be alive. It wouldn’t be fair.
“There it is.” Thalia’s voice; she’d woken up. She was pointing toward Manhattan, which was quickly zooming into view. “It’s started.”
“What’s started?” I asked.
Then I looked where she was pointing. High above the Empire State Building, Olympus was its own island of light, a floating mountain ablaze with torches and braziers, white marble palaces gleaming in the early morning air.
“The winter solstice,” Thalia said. “The Council of the God
