JAWBREAKER

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣

Distance was shorter in the Labyrinth. Still, by the time Rachel got them back to Times Square, Warren felt like they'd pretty much run all the way from New Mexico. They climbed out of the Marriott basement and stood on the sidewalk in the bright summer daylight, squinting at the traffic and crowds.

Warren couldn't decide which seemed less real— New York or the crystal cave where she'd watched a god die.

Percy led the way into an alley, where he could get a nice echo. Then he whistled as loud as he could, five times. A minute later, Rachel gasped. "They're beautiful!"

A flock of pegasi descended from the sky, swooping between the skyscrapers. Blackjack was in the lead, followed by four of his white friends. The black stallion whinnied something at Percy, and he smiled.

"Yeah," Percy told him. "I'm lucky that way. Listen, we need a ride to camp quick."

A few more snorts and neighs were exchanged, and then everybody started saddling up. Everybody except Rachel.

"Well," she said, "I guess this is it."

Percy nodded uncomfortably and looked to Warren. They knew she couldn't go to camp.

"Thanks, Rachel," he said. "We couldn't have done it without you."

"Yeah," Warren managed to say. It was getting slightly easier to keep the ice out of her voice. "Thanks."

"I wouldn't have missed it. I mean, except for almost dying, and Pan..." Her voice faltered.

"He said something about your father," Percy remembered. "What did he mean?"

Rachel twisted the strap on her backpack. "My dad...My dad's job. He's kind of a famous businessman."

"You mean...you're rich?"

"Well, yeah."

"So that's how you got the chauffeur to help us? You just said your dad's name and—"

"Yes," Rachel cut him off. "Percy...my dad's a land developer. He flies all over the world, looking for tracts of undeveloped land." She took a shaky breath. "The wild. He— he buys it up. I hate it, but he plows it down and builds ugly subdivisions and shopping centers. And now that I've seen Pan...Pan's death—"

"Hey, you can't blame yourself for that."

"You don't know the worst of it. I— I don't like to talk about my family. I didn't want you guys to know. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything."

"Listen," Warren cut in. "Speaking as a child of a famous mother, I get it. Believe me, I do. But you led us through the maze, and you were brave. That's the only thing we're going to judge you on."

Rachel looked at her gratefully. "Thanks. Hey, wait...who's your mom? Now that you mention it...I've always thought you looked familiar."

"Oh, um, The Butcher?"