𝒎𝒊𝒓𝒓𝒐𝒓𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 - 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒚 𝒋𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒙 𝒐𝒄

¸„.-•~*°˜¨ 𝑬𝑰𝑮𝑯𝑻 ¨˜ˆ°*~•-.„¸

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 Phoenix's skin. She was wishing she'd brought more than Percy's thin hoodie.

Being a Child of Apollo and not being able to create heat really sucked sometimes. Phoenix took a deep breath and rubbed her hands together, creating friction. But even mortals can do that. She had learned from Davey how to make it stay but she could never figure it out. Closing her eyes she thought about heat, fire, the sun. She opened her eyes again and pulled her hands apart. Suddenly, a small light emitted from her fingertips, and she was filled with heat. 

"I did it," She gasped.

"Did what?" Percy asked turning around to see the new heat source. "Woah."

The heat and light quickly faded. But Phoenix didn't care. She had figured it out.

They lost the van twice, but Phoenix, using her power to predict, 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 bus station, but it just kept driving.

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

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

"Which girl?" 

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

"Zoe?" 

"What about Zoe?"

"She's driving."

That's the one. 

"Yet she couldn't drive the other day?" Phoenix muttered annoyed.

Hey, look! There's a donut shop. Can we get something to go? 

Percy tried explaining to Blackjack that taking a flying horse to a donut shop would give every cop in there a heart attack, but he didn't seem to get it. 

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

"Well," Percy said. "Lets get after them." 

They were about to leap off the Chrysler Building when Blackjack whinnied in alarm and almost threw Phoenix. She screeched and threw her arms around 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—grape vines—had sprouted from the cracks between the stones of the building. 

They were wrapping around Blackjack's legs, and Phoenix's lashing down their 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. 

God alert! Blackjack yelled. It's the wine dude!