Chapter 15 Dad Doesn't Kill Me...Yet

Hit. Dodge. Punch. Roll. Over and Over. Again. Hit. Dodge. Punch. Roll. Repeat.

"Percy Jackson," a quiet voice said.

I ignored it; focusing on repeating the exercise I'd perfected an hour ago, but couldn't stop doing. It was easier to keep working out than to think. I rolled again, coming up in time to stab Riptide into the squishy dummy that I'd already killed three dozen times.

"Percy Jackson, I have message for you."

I stood up, letting Riptide hang limply at my side and calmly wiping sweat from my forehead. "Do you want to kill me?" I asked, not turning around. "Cause I'm not exactly in the mode to face death again today." It was totally disrespectful, but I too upset to care about that sort of thing.

"No," Hermes said. "I have a message for you from your father."

I turned. "You don't usually deliver messages in person unless there is something in it for you. No offense or anything," I added as an afterthought.

Hermes smiled a little. "You believe that you know that god's well. Then again, we often think that we know our children well. I suppose it is a flaw we all suffer from." He sighed and looked so depressed I almost felt bad for him. Almost.

I capped Riptide and it shrunk back into a pen. I walked over to the little pool in the corner of the room and took a long drink before turning back to Hermes. He was sitting down on one of the stones we used to sharpen our swords, gazing out into the sky. I observed him, part of me wanting him to go away, and part of me wondering what the god was thinking. Was he thinking about Luke, the war, or how many messages he needed to deliver?

"Okay, shoot," I said, folding my arms across my chest. "What's my dad want me to know? Or do? Or not do? Or did he scold me?"

Hermes didn't look at me, but tossed a package towards me. I caught it, looking at it critically. It was cylinder in shape and wrapped in silver paper. Writing was scribbled across it. It said, in Greek letters, "To Percy Jackson. From Dad."

Yeah, really sentimental.

Part of me wondered what my dad would think if I didn't open it, if I just set it down and walked away. I was tempted to. But my curiosity won over. It wasn't every day a demigod got a package from their parent, much less delivered by the messenger god himself. Plus, I'd probably already mad the gods mad enough today. It'd just be asked for death to ignore a gift right now.

I cautiously ripped the paper open, trying not to look really interested. The paper fell away and I found myself staring at a glass cylinder filled with water. It was about the size of a normal glass of water, but with a seal tight lid. I stared at it, waiting for something to happen. Anything. A wave or signal. A message. A little boat to be stuck inside it. A pet mermaid.

Nothing.

"Wow," I mumbled. "Thanks dad. I might get thirsty sometime."

"This came with it."

I looked over at Hermes. He was holding out an envelope towards me, his eyes scanning my face. I walked over and took the envelope from him. I wished he'd look away. Before, the guy wouldn't look at me. Now he didn't seem to know the meaning of personal space. I cleared my throat, but Hermes didn't look away. I kind of wanted to read the letter without the god staring at me. He didn't seem to pick up the hint. Sighing, I slit the envelope open and pulled out the blue paper that was inside.

To Percy:

This is more than it appears to be, much like you. DO NOT DRINK IT UNLESS IN AN EMERGENCY!

"Hmmm," I said, feeling very grumpy. I folded the piece of paper and was about to stuff it in my pocket when Hermes said, "Read the back."

I stopped, looking at him, before turning the paper over.

This will bring you home, my son. You may not believe this, but no son of mine has ever made me prouder.

I'm pretty sure that's the longest note that a demigod ever got from their parent, but that wasn't the reason I was suddenly blinking back tears. I folded the paper much more gently than I had before and slid it carefully into my pocket, practically cradling the little glass of water in my hand. My dad was proud of me. Who cared what the other gods thought?

Lightning flashed in the distance.

Oh, that's right. Zeus cared.

"Percy," Hermes said. "What Chiron spoke before is true. You have made the gods nervous. All the pieces are in place. Now we're just waiting to see who makes the first move. Kronos won't wait much longer to take on Olympus. And the gods will need the demigods. They'll need you. Don't do anything that will prevent you from being around, okay?" he said, standing up and placing his hand on my shoulder.

"Sir," I said, "Why did you really come to deliver that package in person?"

Hermes looked at me solemnly. "I had a son who made all the wrong choices. He didn't believe me when I said he made me proud. I wanted to make sure you got the right message. I came in person to make sure you really knew what is riding on your shoulders now. The fate of the future rests on you. Percy Jackson, do not place your own needs and desires above those of the world. Now is not the time to be selfish."

"That's cryptic," I mumbled.

He smiled. "Not really, demigod. You have a choice; yourself or your world. The time will come when you'll have to choose. Be wise."

He turned and walked away, vanishing before he reached the edge of the pavilion.

I had a funny feeling that I'd just been told I'd better start preparing, one way or the other, to die.