"Told you," the old satyr mumbled. "True leader. True . . ."

 

He closed his eyes for the last time.

 

Grover gulped. He put his hand on Leneus's forehead and spoke an ancient

blessing. The old satyr's body melted, until all that was left was a tiny

sapling m a pile of fresh soil.

 

"A laurel," Grover said in awe. "Oh, that lucky old goat."

 

He gathered up the sapling in his hands. "I ... I should plant him. In Olympus,

in the gardens."

 

"We're going that way," I said. "Come on."

 

Easy-listening music played as the elevator rose. I thought about the first time

I'd visited Mount Olympus, back when I was twelve. Annabeth and Grover hadn't

been with me then. I was glad they were with me now. I had a feeling it might be

our last adventure together.

 

"Percy," Annabeth said quietly. "You were right about Luke." It was the first

time she'd spoken since Silena Beauregard's death. She kept her eyes fixed on

the elevator floors as they blinked into the magical numbers: 400, 450, 500.