"In hiding," Hermes said. "Prometheus sent Zeus a message with a bunch of

excuses for supporting Kronos. 'I was just trying to minimize the damage,' blah,

blah. He'll keep his head low for a few centuries if he's smart. Krios has fled,

and Mount Othrys has crumbled into ruins. Oceanus slipped back into the deep

ocean when it was clear Kronos had lost. Meanwhile, my son Luke is dead. He died

believing I didn't care about him. I will never forgive myself."

 

Hermes slashed his caduceus through the mist. The Iris-picture disappeared.

 

"A long time ago," I said, "you told me the hardest thing about being a god was

not being able to help your children. Y ou also told me that you couldn't give

up on your family, no matter how tempting they made it."

 

"And now you know I'm a hypocrite?"

 

"No, you were right, Luke loved you. At the end, he realized his fate. I think

he realized why you couldn't help him. He remembered what was important."

 

"Too late for him and me."

 

"You have other children. Honor Luke by recognizing them. All the gods can do

that."

 

Hermes's shoulders sagged. "They'll try, Percy. Oh, we'll all try to keep our