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

by Rick Riordan

It was true. I guess we both knew it. Still, I felt like somebody was poking my heart with a cold metal rod. “How did you know?” “Know what?” I looked around to make sure we were alone. Then I leaned in close and whispered: “My Achilles spot. If you hadn’t taken that knife, I would’ve died.” She got a faraway look in her eyes. Her breath smelled of grapes, maybe from the nectar. “I don’t know, Percy. I just had this feeling you were in danger. Where…where is the spot?” I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone. But this was Annabeth. If I couldn’t trust her, I couldn’t trust anyone. “The small of my back.” She lifted her hand. “Where? Here?” She put her hand on my spine, and my skin tingled. I moved her fingers to the one spot that grounded me to my mortal life. A thousand volts of electricity seemed to arc through my body. “You saved me,” I said. “Thanks.” She removed her hand, but I kept holding it. “So you owe me,” she said weakly. “What else is new?”