𐌙/𐌍 Ᏽ𐌵𐌀𐌋𐌄 & 𐌕𐋅𐌄 Ᏽ𐌐𐌄𐌀𐌕 𐌌𐌙𐌕𐋅𐌔 ¹

Chapter 11

Eleven
ꕤ

We Blow A Bridge Up

  Fortunately, Blackjack was on duty.

  I did my best taxicab whistle, and within a few minutes three dark shapes circled out of the sky. They looked like hawks at first, but as they descended I could make out the long galloping legs of pegasi.

  "Yo, boss." Blackjack landed at a trotting, his friends Porkpie and Hamilton (I know, weird name for a pegasus) right behind him. "Man, I thought those wind gods were gonna knock us to Pennsylvania until we said we were with you!"

  "Thanks for coming," I told him. "Hey, why do pegasi gallop as they fly, anyway?"

  Blackjack whinnied. "Why do humans swing their arms as they walk? I dunno, boss. It just feels right. Where to?"

  "We need to get to the Williamsburg Bridge," Percy said.

  Blackjack lowered his neck. "You're darn right, boss. We flew over it on the way here, and it don't look good. Hop on!"

  On the way to the bridge, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach. The Oddontotyranos was one of the first monsters I've ever killed. He had killed my best friend at the top of Half-Blood Hill. Every time I looked at its horns, it seemed like Zaak's blood was dripping on the ground. I still had nightmares about that.

  I'd been hoping he would stay dead for a few centuries, but I should've known my luck wouldn't hold.

  We saw the battle before we 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.

  We came in for a low pass, and I 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.

  Hellhounds leaped ahead of the line from time to time. Most were destroyed with arrows, but one got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. I didn't see what happened to him next. I didn't want to know.

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

  Sure enough, in the middle of the invading legion was the Rhino-Horse itself. Last time I saw it, it had been covered in algae and mud, like it had ran miles to find specifically me. But now, it was mounted in huge horse armor that would fit in a large elephant. It seemed bigger than last time I saw it, it seemed more like a brute gorrila now, and it was so strong it left paw prints and cracks on the ground.

  Not to mention the Minotaur.

  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 was at least ten feet tall, and pure muscle. A double-bladed axe was strapped to his back, but he was too impatient to use it.