¹On This Spring Day.

008.

               Percy looked at her. "What were you saying about Persephone?" he asked.

               She pursed her lips. "Maybe another time. Look, we need to get campers here to fight off the invasion."

               "Oh. Right." Percy started patting down his pant pockets, digging out what looked to be Sally's phone. He flipped it open and quickly dialed a phone number; it had to be Annabeth's considering she was one of few ( if not the only demigod ) to have a cellphone on her. "What should I tell her?" he asked Violet as the phone started ringing, waiting for Annabeth to answer.

               "Tell her to ..." the daughter of Eros shrugged, "bring the rest of the campers to Olympus? That there is some trap that's going to happen? We can come up with a better plan over at Olympus. I dunno, Percy. Planning isn't my thing; it's Annabeth's thing."

               Percy pursed his lips. "We need to speak with the gods."

               She snorted. "Good luck with that. They're off fighting Typhon, remember?"

               He didn't answer her, quickly telling what sounded to be Annabeth's voicemail to take the vans and come to the Empire State Building. He ended it ominously, saying, "We'll speak with the gods."

               Violet raised her eyebrows as he tucked the phone into his back pocket. "You sure we'll be able to talk to them?"

               "Not at all." Percy turned towards the entrance to Central Park. "C'mon. We need to hail a taxi."

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The nice thing about New York? No one bats an eye when two teenagers look like they crawled their way through the dirtiest and dustiest basement imaginable hail a taxi. No one bats an eye either when that taxi heads down Fifth Avenue with a giant hellhound loping along behind. Of course, that all probably had to do with the Mist; however, Violet also knew that New Yorkers minded their business ( something she found hard to do ). People probably couldn't see Mrs. O'Leary, or maybe they thought she was a large, loud, very friendly truck.

               On the way down Fifth Avenue, Percy called Annabeth again. This time, she answered. "Hey," he greeted. "Get my message?"

               "Percy, where have you been? And where's Violet? AJ nearly ripped my head off, you know!" Annabeth's voice filtered through the speakers. Percy glanced Violet's way; she shrugged as if to say Figured that's what she'd ask. "Your message said almost nothing! We've been worried sick!"

               "I'll fill you in later," he promised hastily. But Violet had no idea how they were going to tell Annabeth that she, Nico, and Percy broke into the Underworld ( again ) and that Percy bathed in the River Styx. "Where are you?"

               "We're on our way like you asked, almost to the Queens Midtown Tunnel. But, Percy, what are you planning? We've left the camp virtually undefended and there's no way the gods—"

               "Trust me," he insisted. "I'll see you there."

               And then he hung up. Violet noticed his hands were shaking as he placed the phone in his lap. She gently placed a hand over his and quickly looked out the taxi window to her right. "He should really clean these," she told the son of Poseidon under her breath, nodding to the window.

               He glanced at her, but turned his hand over to grab her's, intertwining their fingers. "Maybe give him an extra five bucks and he will, Love Bug."