I shrugged. "Well, maybe not to his face, anyway."
"Sally?" Mr. Blofis called from our living room. "You need the green binder or the red one?"
"I'd better go," she told me. "See you for Christmas?"
"Are you putting blue candy in my stocking?"
She smiled. "If you're not too old for that."
"I'm never too old for candy."
"I'll see you then."
She waved her hand across the mist. Her image disappeared, and I thought to myself that Thalia had been right, so many days ago at Westover Hall: my mom really was pretty cool.
Compared to Mount Olympus, Manhattan was quiet. Friday before Christmas, but it was early in the morning, and hardly anyone was on Fifth Avenue. Argus, the many-eyed security chief, picked up Annabeth, Grover, and me at the Empire State Building and ferried us back to camp through a light snowstorm. The Long Island Expressway was almost deserted.
As we trudged back up Half-Blood Hill to the pine tree where the Golden Fleece glittered, I half expected to see Thalia there, waiting for us. But she wasn't. She was long gone with Artemis and the rest of the Hunters, off on their next adventure.
Chiron greeted us at the Big House with hot chocolate and toasted cheese sandwiches. Grover went off with his satyr friends to spread the word about our strange encounter with the magic of Pan. Within an hour, the satyrs were all running around agitated, asking where the nearest espresso bar was.
Annabeth and I sat with Chiron and some of the other senior campers—Beckendorf, Silena Beauregard, and the Stoll brothers. Even Clarisse from the Ares cabin was there, back from her secretive scouting mission. I knew she must've had a difficult quest, because she didn't even try to pulverize me. She had a new scar on her chin, and her dirty blond hair had been cut short and ragged, like someone had attacked it with a pair of safety scissors.
"I got news," she mumbled uneasily. "Bad news."
"I'll fill you in later," Chiron said with forced cheerfulness. "The important thing is you have prevailed. And you saved Annabeth!"
Annabeth smiled at me gratefully, which made me look away.
For some strange reason, I found myself thinking about Hoover Dam, and the odd mortal girl I'd run into there, Rachel Elizabeth Dare. I didn't know why, but her annoying comments kept coming back to me. Do you always kill people when they blow their nose? I was only alive because so many people had helped me, even a random mortal girl like that. I'd never even explained to her who I was.
"Luke is alive," I said. "Annabeth was right."
Annabeth sat up. "How do you know?"
I tried not to feel annoyed by her interest. I told her what my dad had said about the Princess Andromeda.
"Well." Annabeth shifted uncomfortably in her chair. "If the final battle does come when Percy is sixteen, at least we have two more years to figure something out."
I had a feeling that when she said "figure something out," she meant "get Luke to change his ways," which annoyed me even more.
Chiron's expression was gloomy. Sitting by the fire in his wheelchair, he looked really old. I mean… he was really old, but he usually didn't look it.
"Two years may seem like a long time," he said. "But it is the blink of an eye. I still hope you are not the child of the prophecy, Percy. But if you are, then the second Titan war is almost upon us. Kronos's first strike will be here."
"How do you know?" I asked. "Why would he care about camp?"
"Because the gods use heroes as their tools," Chiron said simply. "Destroy the tools, and the gods will be crippled. Luke's forces will come here. Mortal, demigod, monstrous… We must be prepared. Clarisse's news may give us a clue as to how they will attack, but—"
There was a knock on the door, and Nico di Angelo came huffing into the parlor, his cheeks bright red from the cold.
He was smiling, but he looked around anxiously. "Hey! Where's… where's my sister?"
Dead silence. I stared at Chiron. I couldn't believe nobody had told him yet. And then I realized why. They'd been waiting for us to appear, to tell Nico in person.
That was the last thing I wanted to do. But I owed it to Bianca.
"Hey, Nico." I got up from my comfortable chair. "Let's take a walk, okay? We need to talk."
He took the news in silence, which somehow made it worse. I kept talking, trying to explain how it had happened, how Bianca had sacrificed herself to save the quest. But I felt like I was only making things worse.
"She wanted you to have this." I brought out the little god figurine Bianca had found in the junkyard. Nico held it in his palm and stared at it.
We were standing at the dining pavilion, just where we'd last spoken before I went on the quest. The wind was bitter cold, even with the camp's magical weather protection. Snow fell lightly against the marble steps. I figured outside the camp borders, there must be a blizzard happening.
"You promised you would protect her," Nico said.
He might as well have stabbed me with a rusty dagger.
It would've hurt less than reminding me of my promise.
"Nico," I said. "I tried. But Bianca gave herself up to save the rest of us. I told her not to. But she—"
"You promised!"
He glared at me, his eyes rimmed with red. He closed his small fist around the god statue.
"I shouldn't have trusted you." His voice broke. "You lied to me. My nightmares were right!"
"Wait. What nightmares?"
He flung the god statue to the ground. It clattered across the icy marble. "I hate you!"
"She might be alive," I said desperately. "I don't know for sure—"
"She's dead." He closed his eyes. His whole body trembled with rage. "I should've known it earlier. She's in the Fields of Asphodel, standing before the judges right now, being evaluated. I can feel it."