The river raced toward Y/N at the speed of a truck. Wind ripped the breath from his lungs. Steeples and skyscrapers and bridges tumbled in and out of his vision. He even felt the flames on his clothes extinguish from the wind.
His only thought at that moment wasn't one of a great hero from a story. No, he didn't come to terms with his own mortality, neither did he laugh in the face of death.
The only thing he had in his head was: Aaaaggghhhhh!
And then, everything stopped. Or, to be more precise, everything continued—that was good news; he wasn't dead. He never sank into the river, nor did he splattered on the ground. He just stood there in the air, a hundred feet above his end.
Surely he should have gone into ecstasy at that point, should have been thankful to Hera for whatever was happening. Yet, he mostly wanted to yell. It was frightening to remain there in the air without moving down.
Then Y/N realized something: he wasn't totally still. He wasn't blocked in the air, not quite. He was moving forward, just not downward.
N-No way! I fly! He leaned to his right, and turned. Same on his left. All the fear was gone, now that he had realized he could fly, and had become ecstasy.
He leaned down and landed on the shore of the river. That's when he noticed something else. It wasn't right that the bench he was standing next to was taller than he. Not right at all. Looking around, he realized he had no feet, no hands...no body! He looked like...an eagle?
Panicking, he flapped his wings, trying to get out of this body in which he was. And then, all of a sudden—and this had to be the strangest thing the mortals around him ever saw—he was back in his usual body without really knowing how.
He had half-charred clothes on his back, and his shirt was so ripped it felt on the ground. Shirtless, he looked as if he was going to the beach, except there was no beach here.
An instant after he had taken his human body again, Y/N started feeling the pain of the poison in his leg and chest striking anew. And he understood why people were so panicked. Not because of him—nobody had noticed him—but because of what they were looking at.
The top of the Arch was left to the flames, and everyone stared at it, shocked.
A little girl said, "Mama! That boy fell from the sky!"
"That's nice, dear," her mother said, craning her neck to watch the ambulances.
"He turned into an eagle!"
"That's nice, dear."
A news lady was talking for the camera, "Probably not a terrorist attack, we're told, but it's still very early in the investigation. The damage, as you can see, is very serious. We're trying to get to some of the survivors, to question them about eyewitness reports of someone falling from the Arch."
Survivors. Y/N felt a surge of relief. Maybe the park ranger and the family had made it out safe. He hoped Annabeth, Ethan, Percy and Grover were okay.
He tried to push through the crowd to find them; he needed more than ever those ambrosia squares, and hoped even more they had saved some from the bus.
"...an adolescent boy," another reporter was saying. "Channel Five has learned that surveillance cameras show an adolescent boy going wild on the observation deck, somehow setting off this freak explosion. Hard to believe, John, but that's what we're hearing. Again, no confirmed fatalities..."
Y/N backed away, trying to keep his head down. He had to go a long way around the police perimeter. Uniformed officers and news reporters were everywhere. A gray veil was slowly setting itself before his eyes.
He had almost lost hope when a familiar voice bleated, "Y/N!"
He turned and got tackled by Ethan's hug. It was fortunate, because he couldn't have stood on his legs much longer. "We thought you'd gone to Hades the hard way!" Ethan said.
Annabeth stood behind him, trying to look angry, but even she seemed relieved. "We can't leave you alone for five minutes! What happened? Where's your T-shirt?"
"I—sort of—fell."
"Y/N! Six hundred and thirty feet?"
Y/N's legs definitely let go of him. Ethan held him up at the very last moment. "Hey! Tell me before you do that!"
Y/N couldn't say anything. He only stared at his injured leg.
Luckily, Annabeth's eyes followed his stare, and she said, "Quick! We need ambrosia! Grover, please, tell you've got yours."
"It was in my bag, in the bus!" Grover said, panicking.
"Percy?"
"Same!"
"Ethan?" Annabeth asked, her voice sounding more and more desperate.
Ethan was trying to hold Y/N and find something in his pocket at the same time. With the panic, he didn't do well. "Help me!"
Percy and Grover held Y/N while Ethan fumbled inside his large pockets. He got out three tin cans—no idea how he managed to get all of them inside—before pulling out a few of the little ambrosia squares.
Annabeth took them and, bluntly, thrust them in Y/N's mouth, her hand shaking.
Y/N almost choked, then the taste of cookie filled his mouth. He let out a long sigh. "That was...close."
"Very close," Percy added.
Behind them, a cop shouted, "Gangway!" The crowd parted, and a couple of paramedics hustled out, rolling a woman on a stretcher. Y/N recognized her immediately as the mother of the little boy who'd been on the observation deck. She was saying, "And then this huge dog, this huge fire-breathing Chihuahua—"
"Okay, ma'am," the paramedic said. "Just calm down. Your family is fine. The medication is starting to kick in."
"I'm not crazy! This boy jumped out of the hole and the monster disappeared." Then she saw Y/N. "There he is! That's the boy!"
Ethan helped Y/N to stand up, and they all turned and ran, disappearing into the crowd.
"What's going on?" Annabeth demanded. "Was she talking about the Chihuahua on the elevator?"
Y/N told them the whole story of the Chimera, Echidna, his jump, his flying act.
"Whoa," Ethan said. "Cool gift."
Before Annabeth could give her opinion, they passed another reporter doing a news break, and Y/N almost froze in his tracks when he said, "Y/N L/N. That's right, Dan. Channel Twelve has learned that the boy who may have caused this explosion fits the description of a young man wanted by the authorities for a serious New Jersey bus accident three days ago. Moreover, he escaped from the Champlain Institute about two weeks ago. And the boy is believed to be traveling west with Percy Jackson, who's also wanted by the authorities for a car crash involving him and his mother, Sally Jackson. For our viewers at home, here are photos of Y/N L/N and Percy Jackson."
They ducked around the news van and slipped into an alley.
"First things first," Percy said. "We've got the get out of town!"
Somehow, they made it back to the Amtrak station without getting stopped. They got on board the train just before it pulled out for Denver. The train trundled west as darkness fell, police lights still pulsing against the St. Louis skyline behind them.
The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, their train rolled into Denver. They hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. They hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, and Y/N was sure that was obvious, even though he had put on a new shirt.
"Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want t tell him about your transformation."
"We can't use phones, remember?" Percy said.
Why couldn't they use phones, one more thing Y/N had been made aware of. Yet, all Annabeth said was, "I'm not talking about phones."
They wandered through downtown for about half an hour, though Y/N wasn't sure what Annabeth was looking for. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere they turned, the Rocky Mountains looked like a tidal wave about to crash into the city.
Finally they found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. They veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping their eyes open for patrol cars. They were five adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure they were up to no good.
"What exactly are we doing?" Y/N asked as Ethan took out the spray gun.
"It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?"
'Don't look at me," she said. "The dining car wiped me out."
Y/N fumbled inside his pocket. To his surprise, the ring was here anew. One more good thing to know about it.
He fished out his last bit of change and passed Ethan a quarter, which left him two nickels and one drachma from Medusa's place.
"Excellent," Ethan said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping."
"What are you talking about?" Percy asked.
"Ethan fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST. "I-M'ing."
"Instant messaging?" Percy said.
"Iris-messaging," Annabeth corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods."
"You summon the goddess with a spray gun?" Y/N said.
Ethan pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."
Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors.
Annabeth held her palm out to Y/N. "Drachma, please."
He handed it over.
She raised the coin over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering."
She threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer.
"Half-Blood Hill," Annabeth requested.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then Y/N was looking through the mist at strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. They seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to them at the railing was a sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow.
"Luke!" Percy called.
He turned, eyes wide.
"Percy!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Y/N! Is that Annabeth, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?"
"We're...uh...fine," Annabeth stammered. She was madly straightening her T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of her face. "We thought—Chiron—I mean—"
"He's down at the cabins." Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right? And Ethan?"
"I'm right here," Grover called, jumping behind Y/N.
Ethan held the nozzle out to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision. "What kind of issues?"
Just then a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip-hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement.
"Chiron had to—what's that noise?" Luke yelled.
"I'll take care of it!" Annabeth yelled back, looking relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight. "Grover, come on!"
"What?" Grover said. "But—"
"Come on!" Annabeth ordered.
Grover muttered something about girls being harder to understand than the Oracle at Delphi, then he followed Annabeth.
"Chiron had to break up a fight," Luke shouted over the music. "Things are pretty tense here. Word leaked about the Zeus–Poseidon standoff. We're still not sure how—probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound. Now the campers are starting to take sides. It's shaping up like the Trojan War all over again. Aphrodite, Ares, and Apollo are backing Poseidon, more or less. Athena is backing Zeus."
In the next stall, Y/N heard Annabeth and some guy arguing with each other, then the music's volume decreased drastically.
"So what's your status?" Luke asked. "Chiron will be sorry he missed you."
Y/N, Percy and Ethan told him pretty much everything. It felt so good to see him, to feel like they were back at camp even for a few minutes, that they didn't realize how long they had talked until the beeper went off on the spray machine, and they realized they only had one more minute before the water shut off.
"I wish I could be there," Luke told them. "We can't help much from here, I'm afraid, but listen...it had to be Hades who took the master bolt. He was there at Olympus at the winter solstice. I was chaperoning a field trip and we saw him."
"But Chiron said the gods can't take each other's magic items directly," Y/N said.
"That's true," Luke said, looking troubled. "Still...Hades has the helm of darkness. How could anybody else sneak into the throne room and steal the master bolt? You'd have to be invisible."
They were all silent, until Luke seemed to realize what he'd said.
"Oh, hey," he protested. "I didn't mean Annabeth. She and I have known each other forever. She would never...I mean, she's like a little sister to me."
Y/N didn't think Annabeth would like that description. In the stall next to them, the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car doors slammed, and the Lincoln peeled out of the car wash.
"You'd better go see what that was," Luke said. "Listen, Percy, are you wearing the flying shoes? I'll feel better if I know they've done you some good."
"Oh...uh, yeah!" Percy said. "Yeah, they've come in handy."
"Really?" Luke grinned. "They fit and everything?"
The water shut off. The mist started to evaporate.
"Well, take care of yourself out there in Denver," Luke called, his voice getting fainter. "And tell Grover it'll be better this time! Nobody will get turned into a pine tree if he just—"
But the mist was gone, and Luke's image faded to nothing. Y/N, Ethan and Percy were alone in a wet, empty car wash stall.
Annabeth and Grover came around the corner, laughing, but stopped when they saw the three others' faces. Annabeth's smile faded. "What happened? What did Luke say?"
"Not much," Percy lied.
"Come on, let's provide ourselves with sustenance," Ethan said, trying to laugh.
A few minutes later, they were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around them, families were eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas.
Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Well?"
"We, um, want to order dinner," Y/N said.
"You kids have money to pay for it?"
Grover's lower lip quivered. Y/N was afraid he would start bleating, or worse, start eating the linoleum. Annabeth looked ready to pass out from hunger.
Y/N was trying to think up a sob story for the waitress when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb.
All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather—but leather that looked like...well, Caucasian human skin.
The guy on the bike would've made pro wrestlers run for Mama. He was dressed in a red muscle shirt and black jeans and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades, and he had the cruelest, most brutal face Y/N had ever seen—handsome, maybe, but wicked—with an oily black crew cut and cheeks that were scarred from many, many fights. The weird thing was, Y/N felt like he had seen his face somewhere before.
As he walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations. The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked again, "You kids have money to pay for it?"
The biker said, "It's on me." He slid into their booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded Annabeth against the window.
He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still there?"
He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen.
The bicker looked at each of them. When his stare fell on Y/N, he couldn't see his eyes behind the red shades, but bad feelings started boiling in his stomach. Anger, resentment, bitterness. He wanted to hit a wall. He wanted to pick a fight with somebody. Who does this guy think he is?
The guy gave him a wicked grin. "So you're old Bovine's kid, huh? And you old Seaweed's?"
Y/N knew he should have been surprised, or scared, but instead he felt like he was looking at Sean Davis. He wanted to rip this guy's head off.
"What's it to you?" Percy said.
Annabeth's eyes flashed him a warning. "Percy, this is—"
The biker raised his hand.
"S'okay," he said. "I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?"
Then it struck Y/N why this guy looked familiar. He had the same vicious sneer as some of the kids at Camp Half-Blood, the ones from cabin five.
"You're Clarisse's dad," Y/N said. "Ares, god of war."
Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should have been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions. "That's right, punk. I heard you crushed Clarisse on the ground."
"She asked for it."
"Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for—I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you all."
The waitress came back with heaping trays of food—cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes.
Ares handed her a few gold drachmas.
She looked nervously at the coins. "But, these aren't..."
Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?"
The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold.
"You can't do that," Y/N told Ares. "You can't just threaten people with a knife."
Ares laughed. "Are you kidding? I love this country. Best place since Sparta. Don't you carry a weapon, punk? You should. Dangerous world out there. Which brings me to my proposition. I need you to do me a favor."
"What favor could we do for a god?" Percy asked.
"Something a god doesn't have time to do himself. It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little...date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me."
"Why don't you get back and get it yourself?" Percy said.
The fire in Ares's eye sockets glowed a little hotter.
"Why don't I turn you into prairie dog and run you over with my Harley? Because I don't feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Percy Jackson. Will you prove yourself a coward?"
Y/N wanted to punch this guy, but somehow, he knew he was waiting for that. Ares's power was causing his anger. He'd love it if Y/N or anybody else attacked him. And Y/N didn't want to give him that satisfaction.
"We're not interested," he said. "We've already got a quest."
Ares's fiery eyes made him see things he didn't want to see—blood and smoke and corpses on the battlefield. "I know all about your quest, punk. When that item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me, naturally. If I couldn't sniff out a weapon that powerful..." He licked his lips, as if the very thought of the master bolt made him hungry. "Well...if I couldn't find it, you got no hope. Nevertheless, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. The old Seaweed and I go way back. After all, I'm the one who told him my suspicions about old Corpse Breath."
"You told him Hades stole the bolt?" Percy said.
"Sure. Framing somebody to start a war. Oldest trick in the book. I recognized it immediately. In a way, you got me to thank for your little quest."
"Thanks," Percy grumbled.
"Hey, I'm a generous guy. Just do my little job, and I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you all."
"We're doing fine on our own," Y/N said.
"Yeah, right. No money. No wheels. No clue what you're up against. Help me out, and maybe I'll tell you something you need to know. Especially you," he added, pointing at Percy
"My mom?"
Ares grinned. "That got your attention. The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride."
"What interrupted your date?" Y/N asked. "Something scared you off?"
Ares bared his teeth. "You're lucky you met me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They're not as forgiving of rudeness as I am. I'll meet you back here when you're done. Don't disappoint me."
Y/N blinked, and Ares was gone. He might have thought the conversation had been a dream, but Annabeth, Ethan and Grover's expressions told him otherwise.
"Not good," Grover said. "Ares sought you out, Percy. This is not good."
"It's probably some kind of trick," Percy said. "Forget Ares. Let's just go."
"We can't," Annabeth said. "Look, I hate Ares as much as anybody, but you don't ignore the gods unless you want serious bad fortune. He wasn't kidding about turning you into a rodent."
"Why does he need us?" Y/N asked.
"Maybe it's a problem that requires brains," Annebeth said. "Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow down to wisdom sometimes."
"But this water park...he acted almost scared. What would make a war god run away like that?" Percy said.
Annabeth, Ethan and Grover glanced nervously at each other.
Annabeth said, "I'm afraid we'll have to find out."