𐌙/𐌍 Ᏽ𐌵𐌀𐌋𐌄 & 𐌕𐋅𐌄 Ᏽ𐌐𐌄𐌀𐌕 𐌌𐌙𐌕𐋅𐌔 ¹

Chapter 22

Twenty-two
ꕤ

I Get A Dump

Nobody steals my pegasus. Not even Rachel. I wasn't sure if I was more angry or amazed or worried.

  "What was she thinking?" Annabeth said as we ran for the river. Unfortunately, I had a pretty good idea, and it filled me with dread.

  The traffic was horrible. Everybody was out on the streets gawking at the war zone damage. Police sirens wailed on every block. There was no possibility of catching a cab, and the pegasi had flown away. I would've settled for some Party Ponies, but they had disappeared along with most of the root beer in Midtown. So we ran, pushing through mobs of dazed mortals that clogged the sidewalks.

  "She'll never get through the defenses," Annabeth said. "Peleus will eat her."

  I hadn't considered that. The Mist wouldn't fool Rachel like it would most people. She'd be able to find the camp no problem, but I'd been hoping the magical boundaries would just keep her out like a force field. It hadn't occurred to me that Peleus might attack.

  "We've got to hurry." I glanced at Nico. "I don't suppose you could conjure up some skeleton horses."

  He wheezed as he ran. "So tired ... couldn't summon a dog bone."

  Finally we scrambled over the embankment to the shore, and I let out a loud whistle. I hated doing it. Even with the sand dollar I'd given the East River for a magic cleaning, the water here was pretty polluted. I didn't want to make any sea animals sick, but they came to my call.

  Three wake lines appeared in the gray water, and a pod of hippocampi broke the surface. They whinnied unhappily, shaking the river muck from their manes. They were beautiful creatures, with multicolored fish tails, and the heads and forelegs of white stallions. The hippocampus in front was much bigger than the others—a ride fit for a Cyclops.

  Thank the gods Poseidon didn't mind me borrowing his pets, but I was sure he would get mad at me for using his blessings so much. I sat on his throne, after all.

  "Rainbow!" I called. "How's it going, buddy?"

  He neighed a complaint.

  "Yeah, I'm sorry," I said. "But it's an emergency. We need to get to camp."

  He snorted.

  "Tyson?" I said. "Tyson is fine! I'm sorry he's not here. He's a big general now in the Cyclops army."

  "NEEEEIGGGGH!"

  "Yeah, I'm sure he'll still bring you apples. Now, about that ride ..."

  In no time, Annabeth, Nico, and I were zipping up the East River faster than Jet Skis. We sped under the Throgs Neck Bridge and headed for Long Island Sound.

It seemed like forever until we saw the beach at camp. We thanked the hippocampi and waded ashore, only to find Argus waiting for us. He stood in the sand with his arms crossed, his hundred eyes glaring at us.

  "Is she here?" I asked.

  He nodded grimly.

  "Is everything okay?" Annabeth said.

  Argus shook his head.

  We followed him up the trail. It was surreal being back at camp, because everything looked so peaceful: no burning buildings, no wounded fighters. The cabins were bright in the sunshine, and the fields glittered with dew. But the place was mostly empty.