¹On This Spring Day.

015.

"Violet," Grover said, his eyes widening. "Are you sure? That lion skin ... that's really helpful. Hercules used it!"

The daughter of Eros's eyes flickered over to Zoë, who was watching carefully. Violet quickly avetered her eyes, looking back to Percy. The son of Poseidon was holding onto the coat tightly, looking between Violet and Zoë; he had caught on, too.

Percy swallowed. "If we're going to survive," he said, "it won't be because we've got a lion-skin cloak. None of are Hercules."

He threw the coat into the bay. It turned back into a golden lion skin, flashing in the light. Then, as it began to sink beneath the waves, it seemed to dissolve into sunlight on the water. The sea breeze picked up.

Grover took a deep breath. "Well, no time to lose."

The satyr jumped in the water and immediately began to sink. Bessie glided next to him and let Grover take hold of his neck.

"Be careful," Percy told them.

"We will," Grover promised. "Okay, um ... Bessie? We're going to Long Island. It's east. Over that way."

Bessie mooed.

"Yes," Grover answered. "Long Island. It's this island. And ... it's long. Oh, let's just start."

Bessie lurched forward. He started to submerge and Grover said, "I can't breathe underwater! Just thought I'd mention—"

Glub!

Under they went, and Violet hoped Poseidon's protection would extend to little things, like breathing.

"Well, that is one problem addressed," Zoë said. "But how can we get to my sisters' garden?"

Violet took a deep breath, trying to steele her nerves. "Thalia's right; we need a car. But there's no one down here we could ask. And, I mean, I don't think Zoë will let us, uh, borrow one."

Zoë frowned. "You are correct. I will not."

"Wait," Thalia said. She started rifling through her backpack. "There is somebody in San Francisco who can help us. I've got the address here somewhere."

"Who?" Percy asked.

The daughter of Zeus pulled out a crumpled piece of notebook paper and held it up. "Professor Chase. Annabeth's dad."

🌷

After hearing Annabeth gripe about her father for two years, Violet was expecting him to have devil horns and fangs. She was not expecting him to be wearing an old-fashioned aviator's cap and goggles. He looked so weird, with his eyes bugging out through the glasses, that the four questers took a step back on the front porch.

"Hello," he said in a friendly voice. "Are you delivering my airplanes?"

Thalia, Zoë, Violet, and Percy looked at each other warily.

"Um, no, sir. We aren't delivering your ... airplanes," the daughter of Eros spoke first, her voice tentative.

"Drat." He cursed under his breath. "I need three more Sopwith Camels."

"Um, of course you do," Violet agreed, though she had no clue what he was talking about. "Look—we're friends of Annabeth."

"Annabeth?" The man straightened as if Violet had just given him an electric shock. "Is she all right? Has something happened?"