"The gods won't move on to another country this time," Thalia said. "This will

be the end of Olympus. The final end."

 

We ran through streets. Mansions were burning. Statues had been hacked down.

Trees in the parks were blasted to splinters. It looked like someone had

attacked the city with a giant Weedwacker.

 

"Kronos's scythe," I said.

 

We followed the winding path toward the palace of the gods. I didn't remember

the road being so long. Maybe Kronos was making time go slower, or maybe it was

just dread slowing me down. The whole mountaintop was in ruins — so many

beautiful buildings and gardens gone.

 

A few minor gods and nature spirits had tried to stop Kronos. What remained of

them was strewn about the road: shattered armor, ripped clothing, swords and

spears broken in half.

 

Somewhere ahead of us, Kronos's voice roared: "Brick by brick! That was my

promise. Tear it down BRICK BY BRICK!"

 

A white marble temple with a gold dome suddenly exploded. The dome shot up like

the lid of a teapot and shattered into a billion pieces, raining rubble over the

city.