𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐔𝐒──𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯

[ VIII. split ]

Percy whistled and Mrs. O'Leary came bounding over.

"Hey, girl," He said. "You remember Grover? The satyr we met in the park?"

"WOOF!"

Zehra hoped that meant Sure I do! And not, Let's play fetch!

"I need you to find him," Percy continued. "Make sure he's still awake. We're going to need his help. You got that? Find Grover!"

Mrs. O'Leary gave Percy a sloppy wet kiss, which seemed kind of unnecessary. Then she raced off north.

Pollux crouched next to a sleeping policeman. "I don't get it. Why didn't we fall asleep too? Why just the mortals?"

"This is a huge spell," Zehra answered. "The bigger the spell, the easier it is to resist. If you want to sleep millions of mortals, you've got to cast a very thin layer of magic. Sleeping demigods is much harder."

Percy stared at her, eyes wide. "When did you learn so much about magic?"

Zehra rolled her eyes so hard she swore she could see the back of her head. "I don't spend all my time dressing up and putting on makeup, Blueberry. I know things."

"Guys," Annabeth called. She was looking at her shield which was currently projecting images into the air. "You'd better see this."

The bronze projection showed Long Island Sound near LaGuardia. A fleet of a dozen speed boats raced through the dark water toward Manhattan. Each boat was packed with demigods in full Greek armor. At the back of the lead boat, a purple banner emblazoned with a black scythe flapped in the night wind. Zehra had never seen that design before, but it wasn't hard to figure out: the battle flag of Kronos.

"Scan the perimeter of the island," Percy urged. "Quick."

Annabeth shifted the scene south to the harbor. A Staten Island Ferry was plowing through the waves near Ellis Island. The deck was crowded with dracaenae and a whole pack of hellhounds. Swimming in front of the ship was a pod of marine mammals. At first, Zehra thought they were dolphins. Then she saw their doglike faces and the swords strapped to their waists. They were telkhines—sea demons.

The scene shifted again: the Jersey shore, right at the entrance to the Lincoln Tunnel. A hundred assorted monsters were marching past the lanes of stopped traffic: giants with clubs, rogue Cyclops, a few fire-spitting dragons, and just to rub it in, a World War II-era Sherman tank, pushing cars out of its way as it rumbled into the tunnel.

"What's happening with the mortals outside Manhattan?" Zehra asked. "Is the whole state asleep?"

Annabeth frowned. "I don't think so, but it's strange. As far as I can tell from these pictures, Manhattan is totally asleep. Then there's like a fifty-mile radius around the island where time is running really, really slow. The closer you get to Manhattan, the slower it is."

She showed me another scene—a New Jersey highway. It was Saturday evening, so the traffic wasn't as bad as it might've been on a weekday. The drivers looked awake, but the cars were moving at about one mile per hour. Birds flew overhead in slow motion.

"It's Kronos," Zehra whispered in awe. "He's slowing time." Pure unbridled fear set deep into the girl's bones. The fragility of her mortality slapped her straight in the face—it was very likely Zehra would not be alive to see the next day.

"Hecate might be helping," Katie Gardner said. "Look how the cars are all veering away from the Manhattan exits like they're getting a subconscious message to turn back."

"I don't know." Annabeth sounded really frustrated. She hated not knowing. "But somehow they've surrounded Manhattan in layers of magic. The outside world might not even realize something is wrong. Any mortals coming toward Manhattan will slow down so much they won't know what's happening."