fighting him made me sad.

 

Prometheus sat forward and laced his fingers. He looked earnest, kindly, and

wise. "Percy, your position is weak. You know you can't stop another assault."

 

"We'll see."

 

Prometheus looked pained, like he really cared what happened to me. "Percy, I'm

the Titan of forethought. I know what's going to happen."

 

"Also the Titan of crafty counsel," Grover put in. "Emphasis on crafty."

 

Prometheus shrugged. "True enough, satyr. But I supported the gods in the last

war. I told Kronos: 'You don't have the strength. You'll lose.' And I was right.

So you see, I know how to pick the winning side. This time, I'm backing Kronos."

 

"Because Zeus chained you to a rock," I guessed.

 

"Partly, yes. 1 won't deny I want revenge. But that's not the only reason I'm

supporting Kronos. It's the wisest choice. I'm here because I thought you might

listen to reason."

 

He drew a map on the table with his finger. Wherever he touched, golden lines

appeared, glowing on the concrete. "This is Manhattan. We have armies here,

here, here, and here. We know your numbers. We outnumber you twenty to one."