ENTRAPPED ₂

55

AS SOON AS THEY CLIMBED ON DECK, PERCY BREATHED, "WOW." Ever the wordsmith, he was.

The view was impressive, Ethan supposed. They had landed near the summit of a forested hill. A complex of white buildings, like a museum or a university, nestled in a grove of pines to the left. Below them spread the city of Atlanta―a cluster of brown and silver downtown skyscrapers two miles away, rising from what looked like an endless flat sprawl of highways, railroad tracks, houses, and green swathes of forest.

Ethan inhaled the cool morning air, trying to get himself under control. He would be no good on a quest if he acted too impulsively.

"I, uh, just picked a tall hill," Leo told Percy. "That's a presidential library over there or something. At least that's what Festus says." He shrunk away from Ethan, as if the other boy might turn and hit him. Ethan felt a little bad about that, but not enough to do anything about it.

Madeleine had appeared on deck. She hovered at Ethan's side, brushing their shoulders together; but her eyes were on Leo. She was looking at him as if she didn't know whether to pity him or flay him for dinner.

Ethan did love his girlfriend.

"Cool," Percy said. "How about we try to get in and out peacefully?"

"Thank you, Jackson," Ethan told him. "Where do you want to start?"

Percy pointed toward downtown. "When in doubt, start in the middle."

"Flawed logic," Ethan told Percy. "I hate your planning."

Madeleine kissed the space right behind Ethan's ear, then pulled away from him.

"Live, you three," she warned. "Or Ethan's wordy anger is going to look like nothing compared to what I'll do to your ghosts."

Her tone was light, but Ethan knew she wasn't joking.

Lord, he loved his girlfriend.

⎯⎯ ୨ entrapped ୧ ⎯⎯

Catching a ride there was surprisingly easy, which Ethan attributed to southern hospitality. The three of them headed to the presidential library―which turned out to be the Carter Center―and asked the staff if they could call a taxi or give them directions to the nearest bus stop. Actually, Percy asked, Frank nodded helpfully, and Ethan glared. They made an efficient team.

Percy had offered to summon Blackjack, but he seemed reluctant about the idea after the horse had knocked him in the head. In any case, Ethan shot him down immediately. He was sick and tired of flying. As much as he hated to deal with mortals at the moment, he found them far more bearable than pegasi.

One of the librarians, whose name was Esther, insisted on driving them personally. She was so nice about it, Percy and Frank started going for their weapons. Ethan stopped them. He was quite adept at recognizing monsters, and this wasn't one.

"Southern hospitality," he told them, "and Percy's infallible good looks. Buckle up, boys."

They piled into Esther's big black Cadillac and drove toward downtown. Esther was so tiny, she could barely see over the steering wheel; but that didn't seem to bother her. She muscled her car through traffic while regaling them with stories about the crazy families of Atlanta―the old plantation owners, the founders of Coca-Cola, the sports stars, and the CNN news people.

"Uh, so, Esther," Percy said, "here's a hard question for you. Salt water in Atlanta. What's the first thing that comes to mind?"

The old lady chuckled. "Oh, sugar. That's easy. Whale sharks!"