Percy woke up and stretched. While doing so, he found a standardized letter on his nightstand.
He immediately knew it must have been filled out by Dionysus, as he stubbornly insisted on getting his name wrong:
Dear ________ Peter Johnson ___,
If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon today. If you fail to announce your intentions, we will assume you have vacated your cabin or met a horrible death. The cleaning harpies will begin their work at sunset. They will be authorized to eat any unregistered camper. All personal belongings left behind will be incinerated in the lava pit.
Have a good day!
Mr. D (Dionysus)
Camp Director, Olympian Council No. 12
He sighed after finishing the letter, put on some decent clothes, left his cabin, and began wandering. He blamed his ADHD for the situation.
Deadlines simply didn't exist for him until there was no other way out. Summer was ending, and he still hadn't replied to his mother's letter from weeks ago, nor to the camp about whether he would stay. Now he had only a few hours to decide.
The decision should have been easy. I mean, nine months training to be a hero or nine months sitting in a classroom—seriously!
But there was his mom to consider.
For the first time, he had the chance to live with her for a whole year without Gabe. He had the opportunity to be home and roam around the city in his free time.
He remembered his training with Ikki and felt ready for the real world after all he had been through. Annabeth had said so long ago during the mission: The real world is where the monsters are. It's where we find out if we're worth anything or not. With his current strength, he could protect his mother and himself.
Remembering that, he decided to head to the arena and practice some swordsmanship.
Maybe it would help clear his head.
The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. All the campers were either in their cabins packing or running around with brooms and mops, preparing for the final inspection.
Argus was helping some daughters of Aphrodite carry their bags and Gucci makeup cases to the other side of the hill, where the camp bus was waiting to take them to the airport.
Percy only thought about training and not about his departure. He reached the swordsmen's area and discovered that Luke had the same idea. His bag was thrown to the edge of the arena. He was training alone, violently attacking dummies with a sword Percy had never seen before. It must have been an all-steel sword because it sliced off the dummies' heads in one strike and pierced through their straw-filled torsos with stabs. His orange counselor shirt was dripping with sweat. His expression was so intense that it seemed as if his life were truly in danger.
Percy watched, fascinated, as Luke dismembered the entire row of dummies, chopping off limbs and reducing them to a pile of straw and armor.
They were just dummies, but Percy couldn't help being impressed by Luke's skill. The guy was an incredible warrior. It was still hard to believe he had beaten him a few times in the past days.
Finally, Luke stopped mid-strike.
"Percy."
"Uh, sorry…" Percy said awkwardly. "I just—"
"It's fine…" Luke said, lowering his sword. "I was just getting in some last-minute practice."
"Those dummies won't bother anyone again," Percy said, glancing at the wreckage.
Luke shrugged.
"We make new ones every summer."
Now that the sword wasn't spinning around, Percy could see something strange about it.
The blade was made of two different types of metal—one edge of celestial bronze, the other of tempered steel.
Luke noticed Percy was staring.
"Oh, this? New toy. This is Backbiter…"
"Backbiter?"
Luke turned the blade in the light, making it gleam ominously.
"One side is celestial bronze. The other is tempered steel. It works on both mortals and immortals…"
Percy thought about what Chiron had told him at the beginning of the quest—that a hero should never harm mortals unless absolutely necessary.
"I didn't know Hephaestus' kids could make weapons like that…"
"They probably don't…" Luke agreed. "This one's unique…"
He gave a faint smile, then sheathed the sword.
"Listen, I was going to look for you. How about one last trip into the woods to find something to fight?"
Percy didn't know why he hesitated. He should have felt relieved that Luke was being so friendly. Since he had returned from the quest, Luke had been a bit distant. Percy was afraid he might be resentful of all the attention Ikki and he had received.
"Do you think that's a good idea?" Percy asked. "I mean…"
"Oh, come on." Luke rummaged through his bag and pulled out a six-pack of Cokes. "Drinks on me."
Percy looked at the Cokes, wondering where in the world Luke had gotten them. Mortal sodas weren't available in the camp store. You'd have to talk to a satyr, maybe…
Naturally, the magical dinner goblets would fill with whatever you wanted, but they didn't taste quite the same as a real Coke straight from the can.
Sugar and caffeine. His willpower crumbled.
"Sure. Why not?"
The two walked into the woods and wandered aimlessly, looking for some monster to fight, but it was too hot. All the monsters with any sense were probably napping in their nice, cool caves.
Eventually, they found a shaded spot by the creek where Percy had broken Clarisse's spear during his first game of capture the flag. They sat on a large rock, drank their Cokes, and watched the sunlight filtering through the forest.
After some time, Luke said, "Miss being on a quest?"
"Monsters attacking me at every turn? Get real!" Percy said with a strange expression.
Luke raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, I miss it…" Percy admitted and asked, "Do you?"
A shadow crossed Luke's face. The girls said Luke was handsome, but at that moment, he looked tired, angry, and not at all handsome. His blonde hair looked gray in the sunlight. The scar on his face seemed deeper than usual.
Percy felt like he was looking at an old man.
"I've lived at Camp Half-Blood year-round since I was fourteen," Luke said honestly. "Since Thalia… well, you know. I trained and trained. Never got to be a normal teenager, out there in the real world. Then they threw me on a quest, and when I came back, it was like, 'Alright, the ride's over. Have a nice life…'"
He crushed his Coke can and tossed it into the creek, shocking Percy.
One of the first things campers learn at Camp Half-Blood is: don't litter. You'll get scolded by the nymphs and naiads. They'll get even. You'll go to bed one night and find your sheets full of centipedes and mud.
"Screw the laurel wreaths…" Luke said with a glint in his eyes. "I'm not ending up like those dusty trophies in the attic of the Big House."
"You sound like someone who's leaving."
Luke gave Percy a crooked smile.
"Oh, I'm leaving, no doubt, Percy. I brought you here to say goodbye."
He snapped his fingers. A small flame burned a hole in the ground at his feet. From it crawled out something black and shiny, roughly the size of his hand.
A scorpion.
Percy began frantically searching for his pen.
"I wouldn't do that," Luke warned indifferently. "Deep scorpions can jump up to five meters. Their stinger can pierce your clothes. You'd be dead in sixty seconds."
"Luke, what…"
Then it dawned on him.
You will be betrayed by the one who calls you a friend.
Percy stared at his friend in shock.
"You…"
Luke stood up calmly, brushing the dust off his jeans.
The scorpion ignored him.
Its small, shiny eyes remained fixed on Percy, its pincers clenching as it crawled onto his shoe.
"I've seen a lot out there in the world, Percy," Luke said with a sigh. "You haven't felt it… the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Haven't you realized how pointless it all is? All the heroic deeds… We're nothing but pawns of the gods. They should have been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they persist, thanks to us, the half-bloods."
Percy couldn't believe what was happening.
"Luke… you're talking about our parents."
Luke laughed mockingly.
"And for that, I'm supposed to love them? Your precious 'Western civilization' is a disease, Percy. It's killing the world. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground and start over with something more honest."
"You're as crazy as Ares," Percy said, eyes wide.
Luke's gaze turned fierce.
"Ares is a fool. He never realized who the true master he was serving is. If I had time, Percy, I could explain. But unfortunately, you won't live that long."
The scorpion crawled up Percy's pants leg, and he frantically thought of a way to buy time.
"Cronos. It's him you're serving."
The air grew colder.
"You should be careful with names," Luke warned, narrowing his eyes.
"Cronos made you steal the master bolt and the helm. He spoke to you in your dreams."
Luke's eye twitched.
"He spoke to you too, Percy. You should have listened."
"He's brainwashing you, Luke…"
"You're wrong. He showed me that my talents were being wasted. Do you know what my mission was two years ago, Percy? My father, Hermes, wanted me to steal a golden apple from the Garden of the Hesperides and take it to Olympus. After all my training, that was the best he could think of."
"That's no easy mission. Hercules did that…"
"Exactly," Luke said coldly. "Where's the glory in repeating what others have already done? All the gods know how to do is repeat the past."
"The garden's dragon gave me this," he said, pointing to his scar. "And when I returned, all I got was pity. I wanted to destroy Olympus stone by stone at that moment, but I waited for the right time… Then I started dreaming of Cronos. He convinced me to steal something worthwhile, something no hero had ever dared to take. During our winter solstice field trip, while the other campers slept, I sneaked into the throne room and took Zeus's master bolt right from his chair. The helm of darkness from Hades, too."
"You have no idea how easy it was. The Olympians are so arrogant; they'd never even dreamed someone would dare steal from them. Their security is pathetic. I was halfway across New Jersey before I heard the storms thundering and knew they'd discovered the theft."
As Luke explained, the scorpion climbed higher, now resting on Percy's knee.
"Then why didn't you deliver the items to Cronos?" Percy asked, trying to devise a plan to escape.
Luke's smile faltered.
"I… I got overconfident. Zeus sent his children to retrieve the stolen bolt: Artemis, Apollo, my father, Hermes. But it was Ares who caught me. I could've beaten him, but I wasn't careful enough. He disarmed me, took the items of power, and threatened to return them to Olympus and burn me alive. Then Cronos's voice came to me and told me what to say. I planted the idea in Ares's head of a great war among the gods. I told him all he had to do was hide the items for a while and watch as the others fought."
"Ares's eyes lit up. I knew he was hooked. He let me go, and I returned to Olympus before anyone noticed my absence." Luke unsheathed his new sword, running his thumb along the flat side of the blade as if hypnotized by its beauty. "After that, the Lord of the Titans… h-he punished me with nightmares. I swore not to fail again. Back at Camp Half-Blood, in my dreams, I was told another hero would come, one who could be tricked into carrying the bolt and helm the rest of the way, from Ares to Tartarus. You were the one who appeared."
"He was wrong. Ikki did it. I just helped…"
"Ikki wasn't in the Lord's plans…"
"You summoned the hellhound that night in the woods," Percy accused, ignoring Luke's deflection.
"We had to make Chiron think the camp wasn't safe for you, so he'd send you on the quest. We needed to confirm his fears that Hades was after you. And it worked."
"The flying shoes were cursed," Percy said again. "Since Ikki wasn't in Cronos's plans, they were supposed to drag him into Tartarus."
"And they would have if he'd been wearing them," Luke gritted his teeth. "But he gave them to the satyr, which wasn't part of the plan. Grover ruins everything he touches. He even messed up the curse."
Luke glanced at the scorpion now perched on Percy's thigh.
"You were supposed to die on that quest, Percy. But don't worry. I'll let my little friend fix that."
"Thalia gave her life to save you," Percy said through gritted teeth. "And this is how you repay her?"
"Don't speak of Thalia!" Luke yelled. "The gods let her die! That's one of the many things they'll pay for."
"You're being used, Luke. You and Ares, both. Don't listen to Cronos."
"I'm being used?" Luke's voice grew shrill. He scoffed. "Look at yourself. What has your father ever done for you? Cronos will rise. You've only delayed his plans. He'll cast the Olympians into Tartarus and send humanity back to the caves.
All but the strongest—those who serve him."
"Call off your creepy little pet," Percy taunted. "If you're so strong, fight me yourself."
Luke smiled.
"Nice try, Percy. But I'm not Ares. You can't trick me. My lord is waiting, and he has many missions for me…"
"Luke…"
"Goodbye, Percy. A new Golden Age is coming. You won't be part of it."
With that, Luke slashed his sword in an arc and disappeared in a wave of darkness.
The scorpion struck.
Percy quickly swatted it aside and uncapped his pen, his sword appearing in his hand. He swiftly cut the scorpion as it lunged at him again.
He was about to congratulate himself when he looked at his hand. On his palm was a large, red welt oozing yellow, steaming liquid.
It had stung him after all.
His ears throbbed. His vision blurred.
Water—he remembered it healed him. Staggering to the creek, he plunged his hand in, but nothing seemed to happen.
The venom was too strong.
His vision darkened. He could barely stand.
Sixty seconds, Luke had said.
He had to get back to camp. If he passed out here, his body would be some monster's dinner.
No one would ever know what happened.
His legs felt like lead. His forehead burned, but still, Percy stumbled toward the camp. The nymphs awakened from their trees.
"Help. Please…"
The last thing he saw was a young man with an otherworldly appearance catching him before he collapsed.