"And my daughter?"
"I couldn't leave her," I admitted, my throat dry. "Or Grover," I added quickly. "Or—"
"Spare me." Athena stepped close to me, and I could feel her aura of power making my skin itch. "I once warned you, Percy Jackson, that to save a friend you would destroy the world. Perhaps I was mistaken. You seem to have saved both your friends and the world. But think very carefully about how you proceed from here. I have given you the benefit of the doubt. Don't mess up."
Just to prove her point, she erupted in a column of flame, charring the front of my shirt.
Annabeth was waiting for me at the elevator. "Why do you smell like smoke?"
"Long story," I said. Together we made our way down to the street level. Neither of us said a word. The music was awful—Neil Diamond or something. I should've made that part of my gift from the gods: better elevator tunes.
When we got into the lobby, I found my mother and Paul arguing with the bald security guy, who'd returned to his post.
"I'm telling you," my mom yelled, "we have to go up! My son—" Then she saw me and her eyes widened. "Percy!"
She hugged the breath right out of me.
"We saw the building lit up blue," she said. "But then you didn't come down. You went up hours ago!"
"She was getting a bit anxious," Paul said drily.
"I'm all right," I promised as my mom hugged Annabeth. "Everything's okay now."
"Mr. Blofis," Annabeth said, "that was wicked sword work."
Paul shrugged. "It seemed like the thing to do. But Percy, is this really . . . I mean, this story about the six hundredth floor?"
"Olympus," I said. "Yeah."
Paul looked at the ceiling with a dreamy expression. "I'd like to see that."
"Paul," my mom chided. "It's not for mortals. Anyway, the important thing is we're safe. All of us."
I was about to relax. Everything felt perfect. Annabeth and I were okay. My mom and Paul had survived. Olympus was saved.
But the life of a demigod is never so easy. Just then Nico ran in from the street, and his face told me something was wrong.
"It's Rachel," he said. "I just ran into her down on 32nd Street."
Annabeth frowned. "What's she done this time?"
"It's where she's gone," Nico said. "I told her she would die if she tried, but she insisted. She just took Blackjack and—"
"She took my pegasus?" I demanded.
Nico nodded. "She's heading to Half-Blood Hill. She said she had to get to camp."
TWENTY-TWO
I AM DUMPED
Nobody steals my pegasus. Not even Rachel. I wasn't sure if I was more angry or amazed or worried.
"What was she thinking?" Annabeth said as we ran for the river. Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea, and it filled me with dread.
The traffic was horrible. Everybody was out on the streets gawking at the war zone damage. Police sirens wailed on every block. There was no possibility of catching a cab, and the pegasi had flown away. I would've settled for some Party Ponies, but they had disappeared along with most of the root beer in Midtown. So we ran, pushing through mobs of dazed mortals that clogged the sidewalks.
"She'll never get through the defenses," Annabeth said. "Peleus will eat her."
I hadn't considered that. The Mist wouldn't fool Rachel like it would most people. She'd be able to find the camp no problem, but I'd been hoping the magical boundaries would just keep her out like a force field. It hadn't occurred to me that Peleus might attack.
"We've got to hurry." I glanced at Nico. "I don't suppose you could conjure up some skeleton horses."
He wheezed as he ran. "So tired . . . couldn't summon a dog bone."
Finally we scrambled over the embankment to the shore, and I let out a loud whistle. I hated doing it. Even with the sand dollar I'd given the East River for a magic cleaning, the water here was pretty polluted. I didn't want to make any sea animals sick, but they came to my call.
Three wake lines appeared in the gray water, and a pod of hippocampi broke the surface. They whinnied unhappily, shaking the river muck from their manes. They were beautiful creatures, with multicolored fish tails, and the heads and forelegs of white stallions. The hippocampus in front was much bigger than the others—a ride fit for a Cyclops.
"Rainbow!" I called. "How's it going, buddy?"
He neighed a complaint.
"Yeah, I'm sorry," I said. "But it's an emergency. We need to get to camp."
He snorted.
"Tyson?" I said. "Tyson is fine! I'm sorry he's not here. He's a big general now in the Cyclops army."
"NEEEEIGGGGH!"
"Yeah, I'm sure he'll still bring you apples. Now, about that ride . . ."
In no time, Annabeth, Nico, and I were zipping up the East River faster than Jet Skis. We sped under the Throgs Neck Bridge and headed for Long Island Sound.
It seemed like forever until we saw the beach at camp. We thanked the hippocampi and waded ashore, only to find Argus waiting for us. He stood in the sand with his arms crossed, his hundred eyes glaring at us.
"Is she here?" I asked.
He nodded grimly.
"Is everything okay?" Annabeth said.
Argus shook his head.
We followed him up the trail. It was surreal being back at camp, because everything looked so peaceful: no burning buildings, no wounded fighters. The cabins were bright in the sunshine, and the fields glittered with dew. But the place was mostly empty.