𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐈𝐋¹ || 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐒𝐎𝐍

𝐗𝐋𝐕𝐈𝐈

✦ 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆.𝐎.𝐀.𝐓 ✦

THE THING ABOUT FLYING ON A PEGASUS DURING THE DAYTIME IS THAT, if you're not careful, you can cause a serious traffic accident on the Long Island Expressway.

Percy had to keep Blackjack up in the clouds, which were fortunately pretty low in the winter. They darted around, trying to keep the white Camp Half-Blood van in sight. And if it was cold on the ground, it was seriously cold in the air, with icy rain stinging his skin.

Percy was wishing he'd brought some of that Camp Half-Blood orange thermal underwear they sold in the Camp store but, after the story about Phoebe and the Centaur-blood T-shirt, he wasn't sure he trusted their products anymore. So instead, Percy started wishing he had Aurora's powers, heating his insides for the cold winter.

Percy and Blackjack lost the van twice, but he had a pretty good sense that they would go into Manhattan first, so it wasn't too difficult to pick up their trail again. Traffic was bad with the holidays and all. It was mid-morning before they got into the city.

Percy landed Blackjack near the top of the Chrysler Building and watched the white Camp van, thinking it would pull into the Greyhound station, but it just kept driving.

"Where's Argus taking them?" Percy muttered.

Oh, Argus ain't driving, boss, Blackjack told Percy, That girl is.

"Which girl?"

The Hunter girl. With the silver crown thing in her hair.

"Zoë?"

That's the one. Hey, look! There's a doughnut shop. Can we hit the drive-thru?

Percy tried explaining to Blackjack that taking a flying horse through the drive-thru would give every cop in the doughnut shop a heart attack, but he didn't seem to get it.

Meanwhile, the van kept snaking its way towards the Lincoln Tunnel. It had never even occurred to Percy that Zoë could drive. She didn't look sixteen. Then again, she was immortal. He wondered if she had a New York license and, if so, what her birth date said.

"Well," Percy said. "Let's get after them."

They were about to leap off the Chrysler Building when Blackjack whinnied in alarm and almost threw Percy. Something was curling around his leg like a snake. Percy reached for his sword, but when he looked down, there was no snake.

Vines – grapevines – had sprouted from the cracks between the stones of the building. They were wrapping around Blackjack's legs, lashing down Percy's ankles so they couldn't move.

"Going somewhere?" Mr. D asked.

He was leaning against the building with his feet levitating in the air, his leopard-skin warm-up suit and black hair whipping around in the wind.