powerful, my blade could only deflect it. The edge of the scythe shaved off my

shirtsleeve and grazed my arm. It shouldn't have been a serious cut, but the

entire side of my body exploded with pain. I remembered what a sea demon had

once said about Kronos's scythe: Careful, fool. One touch, and the blade will

sever your soul from your body. Now I understood what he meant. I wasn't just

losing blood. I could feel my strength, my will, my identity draining away.

 

I stumbled backward, switched my sword to my left hand, and lunged desperately.

My blade should've run him through, but it deflected off his stomach like I was

hitting solid marble. There was no way he should've survived that.

 

Kronos laughed. "A poor performance, Percy Jackson. Luke tells me you were never

his match at swordplay."

 

My vision started to blur. I knew I didn't have much time. "Luke had a big

head," I said. "But at least it was his head.

 

"A shame to kill you now," Kronos mused, "before the final plan unfolds. I would

love to see the terror in your eyes when you realize how I will destroy

Olympus."

 

"You'll never get this boat to Manhattan." My arm was throbbing. Black spots

danced in my vision.

 

"And why would that be?" Kronos's golden eyes glittered. His face — Luke's face