The gods arrived a few minutes later in their full war regalia, thundering into the throne room and expecting a battle.
What they found were Annabeth, Grover, and me standing over the body of a broken half-blood, in the dim warm light of the hearth.
”Percy,” my father called, awe in hisvoice. “What … what is this?”
I turned and faced the Olympians.
“We need a shroud,” I announced, my voice cracking.”A shroud for the son of Hermes.”















