The Lightning Thief (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book 1) · Read more The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson & the Olympians, Book 5). Read more. The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book 5). Home · The Last Olympian (Percy Jackson and the Olympians, Book 5). Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Book 1 . only the best from you, Percy Jackson." . reading the book and now they were going to take away my grade.
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Like this presentation? Why not share! An annual anal Embed Size px. Start on. Show related SlideShares at end. WordPress Shortcode. Published in: Full Name Comment goes here. Are you sure you want to Yes No. First, Kronos had swallowed the baby Hestia whole. Hestia, like her parents, was technically immortal. Gross in there? A little claustrophobic? You bet. But fatal? I can find a way to get her back. Rhea was a gentle goddess. If the kid is immortal, why is Rhea worried about hurting her? But, see, immortals can be hurt badly, crippled, or mutilated.
They just stay crippled forever. And even if they had, Rhea would have been too scared to try. Can you blame her?
As you may have noticed, Kronos was one crazy piece of work. High five! Her best bet was to stick it out, bide her time, and wait until she found a way to get Hestia back.
Kronos tried to be nice to her. He bought her presents and took her out to dinner, as if that could make her forget about the baby in his stomach. When Kronos thought enough time had passed—like three or four days—he insisted that they try to have more kids. Maybe he had a secret death wish. Rhea named her Demeter. Rhea dared to hope. She was trouble with a capital tau. He opened his jaws and swallowed her down. Cue the screaming fit from Mom. Cue the apologies. Kronos had two kids in there. But gods are kind of flexible about their size.
They were like springs getting wound up tighter and tighter, hoping that someday they would get to burst out fully grown.
Kronos insisted they try again. Also a girl. Rhea named her Hera, and she was the least Titan-ish, most godly yet. Rhea was indeed the Great Mother. In fact, she was a little too good at it. Every child she had was better and more powerful than the one before. Dad got to hold the baby. And so Rhea mustered her courage. This time, Rhea left the throne room without throwing a fit.
She was too numb with pain and misery and disbelief. She had married a pathological liar who was also a murderer and a cannibal baby-eater. Could things be any worse? Oh, wait! Things were worse. Two more times she gave birth to perfect, lovely god babies. The fourth child was a boy named Hades. Rhea hoped Kronos would let him live, because every dad wants a son to play catch with, right? Down the hatch, matey!
Same story. At this point, Rhea fled the palace. She went to her brothers and sisters, her nieces and nephews, anyone who would listen. She pleaded for help. The other Titans were either too scared of Kronos like Themis , or they worked for Kronos like Hyperion and told her to stop whining. Finally Rhea visited her sister Phoebe at the Oracle of Delphi, but sadly, even the Oracle had no advice for her. Rhea ran to the nearest meadow, threw herself on the ground, and began to cry.
Suddenly she heard whispering from the earth. You will find help there! This child will be different! He will save the others! You take the Ionian Sea down to, like, Kalamata. Then you turn left and—You know what?
When the time came and Rhea started to get very big in the belly, she took a few deep PW V 1 1 breaths, composed herself, and waddled into the throne room.
I will be back with the baby.
And of course, my lord, I am all about pleasing you! He was suspicious, but he also thought: Plus, by now his thoughts were getting a little sluggish. I mean, five gods in one stomach— dang.
Off you go. Where is Crete? Once she got there, she was immediately met by some helpful nymphs who had also heard the voice of Gaea. They brought Rhea to a cozy, well-hidden cave at the base of Mount Ida.
The bountiful forest offered plenty to eat. Yes, I know: Rhea gave birth to a healthy baby boy god. He was the most beautiful and perfect one yet. I personally vote for the last one, because I think at this point Rhea had simple hopes for this kid—keep him alive and away from hostile stomachs. The sound echoed through the cave and out into the world—so loud that everyone and their Titan mother knew a baby had been born.
A large stone emerged from the dirt—a smooth, oval rock exactly the same size and weight as a baby god. She knew this was a gift from Gaea. She wrapped the stone in swaddling clothes and gave the real baby Zeus to the nymphs to take care of.
She just hoped she could pull off the switcheroo once she got back to the palace. The nymphs brought in their goat Amal- theia, who produced excellent magical goat milk in many different flavors, including low fat, chocolate, and baby formula.
You may have noticed this kid has a set of lungs on him. Kronos will suspect something. She led Rhea to the cave entrance and called out to the Earth Mother: Sorry to disturb you. But we could use some help guarding this kid! Preferably some very loud help! Three new helpers emerged, born of dirt and the spilled blood of Ouranos like I said, that stuff got everywhere. The new guys were large, hairy humanoids, dressed in fur and feathers and leather like they were on their way to some primeval festival deep in the rain forest.
Baby Zeus began crying again. The three warriors immediately busted out some sweet tribal dance moves, beating their spears on their shields and shouting and chanting. They covered up the crying just fine. For some reason, Baby Zeus seemed to like the noise. A fine little boy named, uh, Rocky! He was full! Prophecy, and all. He unhinged his jaw and showed his extreme mouth-opening skills. They shifted—as much as they could in the cramped space—and Rocky landed in their midst. Meanwhile, in the throne room, Rhea threw an Oscar-worthy tantrum.
She screamed and stomped her feet and called Kronos all kinds of unflattering names. He was stuffed. Eventually, things quieted down in the palace. Kronos was now convinced he had thwarted the curse of Ouranos. He was the king of the cosmos and would never be overthrown!
Meanwhile, Rhea visited Mount Ida whenever she could. By the time he was a young adult god, he had grown into a good-looking dude—all tan and ripped from his time in the forest and at the beach. He had short black hair, a neatly trimmed beard, and eyes as blue as the sky, though they could cloud over very fast when he got angry.
One day his mom, Rhea, came to visit on her chariot pulled by lions. He liked the word summer. Now, looking at her son—so confident, strong, and handsome—she knew the time had come. That means they must have the power to change their size and shape. You should have that power, too. See if you can make yourself appear less godly, more..
It was a footrace. Wolves ran on their feet. The only Titan that Zeus had ever seen up close was his mother, but he knew Titans were generally bigger than he was.
When he opened his eyes, he was taller than his mom for the first time. The palace was huge.
Its gleaming black towers rose into the clouds like greedy fingers grasping for the stars. The fortress was meant to inspire fear. Zeus understood that immediately. Zeus decided that if he ever got his own crib, it would be much cooler than Othrys. His palace would be brilliant, blinding white.
One thing at a time, he told himself. I have to bear cups first. Rhea escorted her son into the royal hall, where Old King Cannibal was snoozing on his throne. The years had not been kind to Kronos, which was ironic, since he was the lord of time. Making mortal life forms wither and die no longer amused him.
Their attempts were unsuccessful, but they gave Kronos terrible acid reflux. Rhea approached the throne. Kronos had never heard it.
Maybe that was it. Still, he found this young one unsettling He looked around, trying to remember exactly who had introduced the boy, but Rhea had already faded into the shadows.
I can also sing, dance, and tell satyr jokes. Then he demonstrated some Kouretes dance moves. Other Titans gathered in the throne room to watch. Soon they were cheering and laughing.
Even Kronos had a smile on his face. His singing was as clear as the streams on Mount Ida. He always knew exactly what Kronos would like to drink—hot spiced nectar, cold nectar with a twist of lemon, nectar spritzer with a little cranberry juice. Everybody at the table started chugging at the same time. What did he win? Sure, he was king of the universe, but he was still the youngest of twelve kids. Despite his constantly full stomach, he got to the point where he could chug a full goblet of nectar in three seconds, and Titan goblets are the size of water cooler jugs.
He trusted Zeus to fill his glass with whatever would go down the smoothest. One night when Kronos was dining with his favorite lieutenants, Zeus mixed some special brews for the drinking contest.
The nymphs back on Mount Ida had taught him a lot about herbs and stuff. Zeus set it aside and waited for the right moment. Zeus kept the nectar flowing. He entertained the guests with his jokes and his singing.
I mean his record is, what—three seconds? He was full already and had been hoping to avoid a drinking contest. I bet he would set a new world record tonight. His honor as a super- chugger was at stake. He gestured for Zeus to bring in another round. Zeus ran to the kitchen and fetched his special concoctions. Kronos immediately noticed that his nectar tasted weird, but it was a contest.
The whole point was to drain the cup! Maybe his taste buds were just a little off. After all, Zeus had never steered him wrong. Kronos drained his nectar in two and a half seconds. He slammed the goblet upside down on the table and shouted: Kronos puked.
He puked a puke worthy of the king of the universe. It was a kingly puke. His stomach tried to propel itself out his throat.
The five disgorged gods immediately grew to full-size adults right there on the dining table. The Titan guests stared in amazement, their minds working slowly due to the spiked nectar. They might be slow and sleepy, but they had weapons.
His army consisted of five slimy, unarmed gods who had spent very little time outside a stomach, much less in combat. Guards started pouring into the throne room. Zeus turned to his confused siblings.
Follow me, and I will give you freedom and revenge. Also honey and goat milk. While Kronos retched and his fighters fumbled with their weapons, Zeus and his siblings turned into eagles and soared out of the palace. The nymphs had heard rumors whispered through the earth: Kronos was -W sending his Titans to scour the world for the escapees.
He wanted them brought back, either in chains or in small pieces. Poseidon grunted. Do you have any? The others stared at her as if she were crazy. Perhaps we could steal his scythe. We could chop him up like he did Ouranos! Then I could use the scythe for something better—like cutting wheat!
Did you see those beautiful fields we flew over? I always dream about green fields. Mother Rhea stepped into the clearing. She hugged each of her precious sons and daughters, weeping tears of joy over their freedom. As for the Cyclopes, they are talented blacksmiths.
The idea of descending into the most dangerous, vilest part of creation somehow appealed to him. She knew about cake, because Kronos had eaten lots of it. The crumbs and icing were always getting in her hair. Hades found a cave system that led deep into the Underworld. He seemed to have a knack for navigating the tunnels.
The gods became bats you could argue that they were already bats, but you know what I mean and flew into the abyss. In bat form the gods could fly over the wall easily; but once inside, they spotted the jailer and almost lost their nerve. Kronos had personally hired the most horrible monster in Tartarus to make sure his high-value prisoners never escaped.
Her name was Kampe. From the waist down, she was a four-legged dragon. Thousands of vipers sprouted from her legs like grass skirts. Large, dark reptilian wings grew from her shoulder blades. Her scorpionlike tail swished back and forth, dripping venom. The poor prisoners were forced to work without any break—no water, no sleep, no food, nothing. The Cyclopes worked at the closer end. They each had a forge where they smelted metals and hammered out sheets of bronze and iron.
If the Cyclopes tried to sit down, or even pause long enough to catch their breaths, Kampe would leave fresh burning lash marks across their backs.
Whenever the Cyclopes were on the verge of finishing a weapon or a shield or even a tool that might be dangerous, Kampe confiscated it and threw it into the bubbling pits of magma. Hey, there were six big dudes and only one Kampe.
But Kampe had the whip. Besides, the Hundred-Handed Ones and the Cyclopes were gentle souls. Despite their looks, they were builders, not fighters. Zeus waited until Kampe marched to the far end of the prison yard.
Then he sneaked up to the nearest Cyclops. The Cyclops lowered his hammer.
This may take a while. Kronos tricked us. Together, we can get revenge and throw him down here. How does that sound?
She will not let us finish any project. Kampe will never know. Spread the word to your friends. The gods waited in the darkness while the Cyclopes forged pieces of the new weapons, making each one look like a harmless, incomplete doohickey. The next time the she-dragon turned her back and marched toward the far side of the yard, Brontes quickly assembled the first magic weapon and tossed it to Zeus.
It looked like a bronze rocket, about four feet long, with nose cones on both ends. As soon as he lifted it, his whole body tingled with power.
Poseidon frowned. Electricity arced from one end to the other. Maybe things exploded a lot in Tartarus. A few minutes later, Brontes tossed them a second weapon—a spear with three prongs. Poseidon caught it. He liked pointy things! Also, he could feel the power of storms humming through the spear. When he planted the spear on the ground, the floor of the pit began to shake and crack. He glared at his brothers, and waves of terror radiated from the helmet. Zeus and Poseidon turned pale.
They started to sweat. Are we just supposed to stand back and be cheerleaders while you three do the fighting? But at that moment Kampe turned and marched back toward the Cyclopes. Whatever tipped her off, she detected the presence of the gods. He stood and raised his bronze lightning bolt. He focused all his energy into the weapon. A column of white-hot power shot toward Kampe—the most blinding light that had ever been seen in Tartarus.
Poseidon lowered his trident. Hera cleared her throat. Every spirit and beast in Tartarus had probably seen the flash of lightning, and now they were closing in to investigate. By most accounts, the Titan War took ten years—or maybe Kronos just used his time tricks to make it seem that long, hoping the gods would give up. Many listened. Almost all the female Titans either helped Zeus or stayed out of his way.
Oceanus kept to himself in the depths of the ocean. Helios and Selene, the sun and moon, agreed not to take sides as long as they got to keep their jobs.
That left Kronos and most of the other male Titans, with Atlas as his general and champion fighter. The gods and Titans skirmished back and forth—blowing up an island here, vaporizing a sea there.
The Titans were strong and well armed. But the gods did learn to fight. The Hundred- Handed Ones learned to throw barrages of stones like living catapults.
Once the gods learned to fight, the war still took a long time, because none of the combatants on either side could die. Then you had to figure out what to do with his crippled body. Finally Zeus came up with his big plan. If we do that, the hostile Titans will rally to protect Kronos. Then we can take them all down at once. His troops will have the high ground. Zeus drew a map of the Greek mainland in the dirt. Near Mount Othrys was another Greek mountain—not quite as tall, not as well known.
It was called Mount Olympus. The Hundred-Handed Ones will launch volleys of boulders. Poseidon will summon storms and earthquakes. Zeus clapped his brother on the shoulder. You send waves of terror through the enemy ranks. Hera tapped the dirt map.
I like it. The next morning, as Helios rode his chick magnet into the sky, King Kronos awoke to a sound like thunder. Probably because it was thunder. Zeus hurled a lightning bolt that blasted the tallest tower into black marble shrapnel. The Hundred-Handed Ones chucked so many boulders toward Mount Othrys that when Kronos looked out his window, it seemed to be raining major appliances. The beautiful palace domes imploded in mushroom clouds of dust.
Walls crumbled. Columns fell like dominoes. As the palace shook, Kronos grabbed his scythe and called his brethren to attack. The battle was a massacre, if you can have a massacre where nobody dies. A few Titans tried to counterattack, only to be buried in an avalanche of rubble and boulders. After the initial assault, the gods flew over and mopped up the resistance.
Did I tell you Othrys was the highest mountain in Greece? Not anymore. Mount Othrys is only five thousand and change. Zeus and the Hundred-Handed Ones had basically cut the mountain in half. The Cyclopes dug the Titans out of the rubble and began chaining them up.
None of them got away. General Atlas and the four brothers who controlled the corners of the earth were dragged before Zeus and made to kneel. Even wrapped in chains, he was intimidating. If you throw these four into Tartarus, the entire sky will fall! Only their presence at the four corners of the earth keeps the wide expanse of Ouranos from crashing down upon us.
They chained Atlas to the mountain and forced the entire weight of the sky onto his shoulders. I did mention the chains, right? But what if no one does? They were pitched headfirst into Tartarus. Which leaves us with the million- drachma question: What happened to Kronos? There are a lot of different stories. Most agree that the Crooked One was dug out of the rubble and brought before Zeus.
Kronos was thrown into Tartarus in teeny-tiny pieces. Anyway, Kronos was done. The age of the Titans was over. Some, like Helios and Selene, kept their jobs. Some even intermarried with the gods. Zeus named himself the new king of the cosmos, but he was smarter than Kronos. How about we throw dice for control of different parts of the world? Highest roll gets first choice. What parts are we talking about? Greece and all the other lands? Totally unfair. No surprise, Zeus got the highest roll.
He chose the sky for his domain, which made sense because of the lightning bolts, and all. Poseidon got the second-highest roll. He chose the sea and became the supreme god of the waters, above Oceanus, who got pushed ever farther to the margins of the world, and Pontus, who was mostly asleep in the muck all the time anyway.
Hades got the worst roll, as he expected. Then Zeus sent them back to Tartarus—but this time as jailers to watch over the Titans. At least now they were the ones with the whips. The Elder Cyclopes went to work for the gods. They constructed a workshop at the bottom of the sea near the island of Lemnos, where there was lots of volcanic heat to power their forges. They made tons of special weapons and other fun collectibles, and had a good health package with a week of paid vacation every year.
As for the gods, Zeus invited them all to live with him on Mount Olympus.
Each of them had a throne in the main hall, so even though Zeus was in charge, it was more like a council than a dictatorship. They called themselves the Olympians. I say they were all welcome in Olympus: The guy had always creeped out his siblings. Now that he was lord of the Underworld, he seemed to bring doom and darkness with him wherever he went.
The Olympians figured that now they could settle down and rule the world in peace. There was only one problem. Remember that the Earth Mother Gaea was taking a nap all this time? Well, eventually she would wake up.
And when she got home and found out her favorite kids, the Titans, had been thrown into Tartarus, Zeusie was going to have some explaining to do. Just be warned, some of their stories might make you feel like Kronos after a big glass of mustard nectar.