The Forbidden Daughter | PJO Book One

eighteen

The Three Fates themselves took Luke's body.
Ariana hadn't seen the old ladies in years, since she'd witnessed them snip a life thread at a roadside fruit stand when she was twelve.

They'd scared her then, and they scared her now three ghoulish grandmothers with bags of knitting needles and yarn.

One of them looked at her, and even though she didn't say anything, her life literally flashed before her eyes.

Suddenly she was twenty. Then she was a middle-aged woman. Then she turned old and withered.

All the strength left her body, and Ariana saw her own tombstone and an open grave, a coffin being lowered into the ground. All this happened in less than a second.

It is done, she said.

The Fate held up the snippet of blue yarn and Ariana knew it was the same one she had seen four years ago, the lifeline she had watched them snip.

She had thought it was Percy's life, then her own. Now she realized it was Luke's. They'd been showing her the life that would have to be sacrificed to set things right.

They gathered up Luke's body, now wrapped in a white-and-green shroud, and began carrying it out of the throne room.

"Wait." Hermes said.

The messenger god was dressed in his classic outfit of white Greek robes, sandals, and helmet. The wings of his helm fluttered as he walked. The snakes George and Martha curled around his caduceus, murmuring, Luke, poor Luke.

Ariana thought about May Castellan, alone in her kitchen, baking cookies and making sandwiches for a son who would never come home

Hermes unwrapped Luke's face and kissed his forehead. He murmured some words in Ancient Greek- a final blessing.

"Farewell," he whispered.

Then he nodded and allowed the Fates to carry away his son's body. As they left, Ariana thought about the Great Prophecy. The lines now made sense to her .

The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. The hero was Luke. The cursed blade was the knife he'd given Annabeth long ago cursed because Luke had broken his promise and betrayed his friends.

A single choice shall end his days. Her choice, to give him the knife, and to believe, as Annabeth had, that he was still capable of setting things right.

Olympus to preserve or raze. By sacrificing himself, he had saved Olympus. Rachel was right. In the end, Ariana wasn't really the hero. Luke was.

And she understood something else: When Luke had descended into the River Styx, he would've had to focus on something important that would hold him to his mortal life. Otherwise he would've dissolved.

Ariana had seen her friends, and she had a feeling he had too. He had pictured that scene Hestia showed her of himself in the good old days with Thalia and Annabeth, when he promised they would be a family.

Hurting Annabeth in battle had shocked him into remembering that promise. It had allowed his mortal conscience to take over again, and defeat Kronos. His weak spot his Achilles heel had saved them all.

Next to her, Annabeth's knees buckled. Percy caught her, but she cried out in pain, and Ariana realized he had grabbed her broken arm.

"Oh gods," he said. "Annabeth, I'm sorry."

"It's all right," she said as she passed out in his arms.

"She needs help!" Ariana yelled.

"I've got this." Apollo stepped forward.