The next two weeks went by quickly, but also slowly at times. Whenever I passed by the Poseidon cabin I felt a sharp pang of sadness, remembering Percy's face the last time I saw him, surrounded by telekhines. Every time a voice in my head said, "You should have stayed. Then maybe he would be here."

Every mealtime I was painfully aware of the emptiness of the Poseidon table. Everyone was treating me like fragile glass about to break, which I guess was a good thing, because I felt like if someone mentioned Percy I think I would have shattered.

Finally, the two weeks came and went. The morning after they had gone by, Chiron trotted up to me. "Annabeth, it's been two weeks. A shroud has been made, and I think you should burn it, because you knew him best of anyone here."

I stared at him for a few moments, preparing myself. I don't think I could have cried again, so I numbly followed Chiron up the hill to the amphitheater. When we got there, I realized that the whole camp was already there.

I went to the stage, and someone handed me a shroud. It was sea green, embroidered with a silver trident. Seeing it almost made me break down with tears I didn't think I had, but I looked up at Chiron as he cleared his throat.

"We all must honor Perseus Jackson. His brave actions have saved the camp, indeed the whole world, many a time. After two weeks of unexplained absence, we must assume he is dead. I have asked his best remaining friend to do the final honors."

Trembling, I lifted the shroud and put it on the flames. I turned to the crowd and managed to say, "He was probably the bravest friend I ever had. He…" I stopped dead.

He was there, leaning against a pillar at the back of the amphitheater. He looked as if he had lost half his weight, and his face was a shade paler than normal, but he was there. Alive.

"He's right there!" I cried.

The End. Well, not really, but you know what I mean.