Annabeth had imagined her mother and father together, standing in front of a

newly rebuilt Manhattan, designed by Annabeth. And Luke had been there too —

good again, welcoming her home.

 

"I guess I understand how you feel," I said. "But Thalia's right. Luke has

already betrayed you so many times. He was evil even before Kronos. I don't want

him to hurt you anymore."

 

Annabeth pursed her lips. I could tell she was trying not to get mad. "And

you'll understand if I keep hoping there's a chance you're wrong."

 

I looked away. I felt like I'd done my best, but that didn't make me feel any

better.

 

Across the street, the Apollo campers had set up a field hospital to tend the

wounded — dozens of campers and almost as many Hunters. I was watching the

medics work, and thinking about our slim chances for holding Mount Olympus. . .

.

 

And suddenly: I wasn't there anymore.

 

I was standing in a long dingy bar with black walls, neon signs, and a bunch of

partying adults. A banner across the bar read HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BOBBY EARL.

Country music played on the speakers.