"Then I go to war," I said. "Me against Kronos. And only one of us will

survive."

 

I didn't tell her the whole prophecy — about the soul reaping and the end of my

days. She didn't need to know that I was probably doomed. I could only hope I'd

stop Kronos and save the rest of the world before I died.

 

"You're my son," she said miserably. "I can't just . . ."

 

I could tell I'd have to push her harder if I wanted her to agree, but I didn't

want to. I remembered poor Ms. Castellan in her kitchen, waiting for her son to

come home. And I realized how lucky I was. My mom had always been there for me,

always tried to make things normal for me, even with the gods and monsters and

stuff. She put up with me going off on adventures, but now I was asking her

blessing to do something that would probably get me killed.

 

I locked eyes with Paul, and some kind of understanding passed between us.

 

"Sally." He put his hand over my mother's hands. "I can't claim to know what you

and Percy have been going through all these years. But it sounds to me ... it

sounds like Percy is doing something noble.

 

I wish I had that much courage."