"What was that?" I asked.

 

She shook her head, confused. "What was what?"

 

"I believe," Apollo said, "that we just heard the next Great Prophecy."

 

"What does it mean?" I demanded.

 

Rachel frowned. "I don't even remember what I said."

 

"No," Apollo mused. "The spirit will only speak through you occasionally. The

rest of the time, our Rachel will be much as she's always been. There's no point

in grilling her, even if she has just issued the next big prediction for the

future of the world."

 

"What?" I said. "But — "

 

"Percy," Apollo said, "I wouldn't worry too much. The last Great Prophecy about

you took almost seventy years to complete. This one may not even happen in your

lifetime."

 

I thought about the lines Rachel had spoken in that creepy voice: about storm

and fire and the Doors of Death. "Maybe," I said, "but it didn't sound so good."

 

"No," said Apollo cheerfully. "It certainly didn't. She's going to make a