The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, #5)

by Rick Riordan

All I knew was that I was supposed to make a decision that would decide the fate of the world – but no pressure.

‘It’s him,’ I said. ‘Typhon.’ I was seriously hoping Chiron would say something good, like No, that’s our huge friend Leroy! He’s going to help us!

You’re supposed to be a leader. So LEAD.

‘With great power … comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.’

The next thing I knew, my knee was planted on Hades’ chest. I was holding the collar of his royal robes in one fist, and the tip of my sword was poised right over his face.

His voice broke, and he shrank back to human size. ‘My son, my greatest pride … my poor May …’

And no stopping for looting or pillaging!’ ‘Awwww!’ the whole Hermes cabin complained.

I raised Riptide and shouted, ‘FOR OLYMPUS!’

‘Son of Poseidon?’ East asked. I nodded. ‘Took a dip in the Styx?’ Hudson asked. ‘Yep.’

‘Don’t I get a kiss for luck? It’s kind of a tradition, right?’

How are the gods any better than the Titans?

Perseus, you are not the hero.’

The Lord of the Dead paced up and down, holding his ears while Nico followed him, waving his arms.

Maybe I wasn’t the brightest guy in the world when it came to girls, but I was pretty sure Rachel had just dumped me, which was lame considering we’d never even been together.

‘You’re the last Olympian,’ I said. ‘And the most important.’ ‘And why is that, Percy Jackson?’ ‘Because Hope survives best at the hearth,’

I thought about May Castellan, alone in her kitchen, baking cookies and making sandwiches for a son who would never come home.

Hermes unwrapped Luke’s face and kissed his forehead. He murmured some words in Ancient Greek – a final blessing.

Nico sat cross-legged on the ground at his dad’s feet.

‘We must thank Poseidon,’ Zeus growled. ‘Without whom … it would’ve been difficult –’ ‘Difficult?’ Poseidon asked innocently. ‘Impossible,’ Zeus said. ‘Impossible to defeat Typhon.’

‘All hail, Perseus Jackson,’ Tyson said. ‘Hero of Olympus … and my big brother!’

‘Seven half-bloods shall answer the call, To storm or fire the world must fall. An oath to keep with a final breath, And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death.’

I suppose this means I can claim all those other sons and daughters of mine and send you some siblings next summer.’