This Cold Year ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase²

―xiv. percy's planning privileges have been REVOKED

THEY STOPPED ACROSS THE STREET. Percy took a deep breath, likely trying to calm down. The rain had slowed to a halfhearted drizzle by now.

"That man..." Hazel smacked the side of a bus-stop bench. "He needs to die. Again."

It was a little hard to tell in the rain, but she seemed to be blinking back tears. Her long curly hair was plastered down the sides of her face. In the gray light, her eyes looked like tin.

Naomi remembered how confident she'd acted when they first met—taking control of the situation with the gorgons and ushering her and Percy to safety. She'd been nothing but nice and comforting since they'd met. 

Naomi wasn't sure how to return the favor, but she reached out and put a hand on Hazel's shoulder, squeezing it gently. It wasn't much, but Hazel seemed to relax and shot Naomi a grateful look. 

It wasn't a surprise to Naomi that Hazel had come back from the Underworld—if she focused hard enough, she'd feel it: the way death just barely lingered on her, like secondhand smoke. It made sense, given her reluctance to talk about her past and Nico's secretiveness about her. 

But it didn't matter. It couldn't—Naomi had died, too, so seeing Hazel differently because of her own foray into death would have been hypocritical. And it was clear even after only a few days of knowing her that Hazel had a good heart. She deserved a second chance at life. 

Unlike Phineas. 

"We'll get him," Naomi promised. "He's not like you, Hazel. I know he isn't." 

She shook her head. "You don't know the whole story. I should have been sent to Punishment. I—I'm just as bad—" 

"No, you're not!" Frank balled his fists. He looked around like he was looking for someone who might disagree—enemies he could beat up for Hazel's sake. "She's a good person!" he yelled across the street. A few harpies squawked in the trees, but no one else paid them any attention.

Hazel stared at Frank. She reached out tentatively, like she wanted to take his hand but was afraid he might evaporate.

"Frank..." she stammered. "I—I don't..."

Frank seemed wrapped in his own thoughts. He slung his spear off his back and gripped it uneasily. "I could intimidate that old man," He offered, "maybe scare him—"

"Frank, it's okay," Percy said. "Let's keep that as a backup plan, but I don't think Phineas can be scared into cooperating. Besides, you've only got two more uses out of the spear, right?"

Frank scowled at the dragon-tooth point, which had grown back overnight. "Yeah. I guess..."

"I've got an idea." Percy pointed up the street. "The red-feathered harpy went that way. Let's see if we can get her to talk to us." 

Hazel looked at the food in his hands. "You're going to use that as bait?" 

"More like a peace offering," Percy said. "Come on. Just try to keep the other harpies from stealing this stuff, okay?" 

Percy uncovered the Thai noodles and unwrapped a cinnamon burrito. Fragrant steam wafted into the air. They walked down the street, Hazel, Frank, and Naomi with their weapons out. The harpies fluttered after them, perching on trees, mailboxes, and flagpoles, following the smell of food. 

Naomi wondered what the mortals saw through the Mist. Maybe they thought the harpies were pigeons and the weapons were lacrosse sticks or something. Maybe they just thought the Thai mac and cheese was so good it needed an armed escort. 

Finally, they found the harpy they were looking for. She was circling above a stretch of parkland that ran for several blocks between rows of old stone buildings. Paths stretched through the park under huge maple and elm trees, past sculptures and playgrounds and shady benches.