𝒗. 𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

𝒗𝒊𝒊𝒊.

Percy and Annabeth saw the battle from their pegasi before they were close enough to make out individual fighters. It was well after midnight now, but the bridge blazed with light. Cars were burning. Arcs of fire streamed in both directions as flaming arrows and spears sailed through the air. 

They came in for a low pass, and Percy saw the Apollo campers retreating. They would hide behind cars and snipe at the approaching army, setting off explosive arrows and dropping caltrops in the road, building fiery barricades wherever they could, dragging sleeping drivers out of their cars to get them out of harm's way. But the enemy kept advancing. An entire phalanx of dracaenae marched in the lead, their shields locked together, spear tips bristling over the top. An occasional arrow would connect with their snaky trunks, or a neck, or a chink in their armor, and the unlucky snake woman would disintegrate, but most of the Apollo arrows glanced harmlessly off their shield wall. About a hundred more monsters marched behind them. 

The only camper not retreating from the fight was Noelle, the sight nearly making Percy's heart sink to his stomach. She stood only ten feet away from the first row of monsters armed with her throwing knife and bow. Percy noticed she was flanked by two creatures he'd never seen before, the giant jungle cats snarling at the enemy. 

Hellhounds leaped ahead of the line from time to time. Most were destroyed by Noelle and her jaguars, but one got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. Percy didn't see what happened to him next. He didn't want to know. 

"There!" Annabeth called from the back of her pegasus. 

Sure enough, in the middle of the invading legion was Old Beefhead himself. 

The last time Percy had seen the Minotaur, the monster been wearing nothing but his tighty whities. Percy didn't know why. Maybe he'd been shaken out of bed to chase the young boy. This time, he was prepared for battle. 

From the waist down, he wore standard Greek battle gear—a kiltlike apron of leather and metal flaps, bronze greaves covering his legs, and tightly wrapped leather sandals. His top was all bull—hair and hide and muscle leading to a head so large he should've toppled over just from the weight of his horns. He seemed larger than the last time Percy had seen him—ten feet tall at least. A double-bladed axe was strapped to his back, but he was too impatient to use it. As soon as he saw Percy circling overhead (or sniffed him, more likely, since his eyesight was terrible), he bellowed and picked up a white limousine. 

"Blackjack, dive!" Percy yelled. 

What? The pegasus asked. No way could he . . . Holy horse feed! 

They were at least a hundred feet up, but the limo came sailing toward them, flipping fender over fender like a two-ton boomerang. Annabeth and Porkpie swerved madly to the left, while Blackjack tucked in his wings and plunged. The limo sailed over Percy's head, missing by maybe two inches. It cleared the suspension lines of the bridge and fell toward the East River. 

Monsters jeered and shouted, and the Minotaur picked up another car - Noelle's dad's car. 

"No!" Noelle cried. 

In her adrenaline to save her father, she transformed into a falcon, heading straight for the Minotaur. She heard a call of her name, but she didn't care to know who had said it. She had to save her dad.

She landed on the Minotaur's shoulder, transforming back to her human self and stabbing him in the neck with her knife. Luckily, that got him to drop the car, but Noelle watched with devastation as it crashed to the ground. 

Smoke began to pour from the car a few seconds later, and Noelle leapt from the Minotaur not caring about the monsters surrounding the car. Unfortunately, she didn't even make it close to the burning vehicle as the Minotaur hit her out of the air. She sailed over the enemy, landing back at the feet of her jaguars.