He held up his charred hand. Annabeth touched his fingertips.

 

"Did you ..." Luke coughed and his lips glistened red. "Did you love me?"

 

Annabeth wiped her tears away. "There was a time I thought . . . well, I thought

..." She looked at me, like she was drinking in the fact that I was still here.

And I realized I was doing the same thing. The world was collapsing, and the

only thing that really mattered to me was that she was alive.

 

"You were like a brother to me, Luke," she said softly. "But I didn't love you."

 

He nodded, as if he'd expected it. He winced in pain.

 

"We can get ambrosia," Grover said. "We can — "

 

"Grover," Luke gulped. "You're the bravest satyr I ever knew. But no. There's no

healing. . . ." Another cough.

 

He gripped my sleeve, and I could feel the heat of his skin like a fire. "Ethan.

Me. All the unclaimed.

 

Don't let it . . . Don't let it happen again."

 

His eyes were angry, but pleading too.