He began to shine. I turned away and made sure Annabeth did the same, because

she was still frozen in shock.

 

Good luck, Percy, Martha the snake whispered.

 

Hermes glowed with the light of a supernova. Then he was gone.

 

Annabeth sat at the foot of her mother's throne and cried. I wanted to comfort

her, but I wasn't sure how.

 

"Annabeth," I said, "it's not your fault. I've never seen Hermes act that way. I

guess ... I don't know . . . he probably feels guilty about Luke. He's looking

for somebody to blame. I don't know why he lashed out at you. You didn't do

anything to deserve that."

 

Annabeth wiped her eyes. She stared at the hearth like it was her own funeral

pyre.

 

I shifted uneasily. "Um, you didn't, right?"

 

She didn't answer. Her Celestial bronze knife was strapped to her arm — the same

knife I'd seen in Hestia's vision. All these years, I hadn't realized it was a

gift from Luke. I'd asked her many times why she preferred to fight with a knife

instead of a sword, and she'd never answered me. Now I knew.