JAWBREAKER

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙚

Fortunately, Blackjack was on duty. Percy did his best taxicab whistle, and within a few minutes two dark shapes circled out of the sky. They looked like hawks at first, but as they descended Warren could make out the long galloping legs of Pegasi.

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

Blackjack whinnied a response, but Warren was feeling impatient.

"We need to get to the Williamsburg Bridge," she said. Blackjack lowered his neck and snorted, as if to say yeah, it's not looking too good.

She and Percy hopped on their respective Pegasi, and they were off like a shot. On the way to the bridge, a knot formed in the pit of Percy's stomach. The Minotaur was one of the first monsters he'd ever defeated. Even after four years he still had nightmares about that night on Half-Blood Hill.

From the sky, they could see the battle before they 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.

Warren and Percy came in for a low pass, and they saw the Apollo campers retreating. Archers 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.

Warren and Percy didn't see what happened to him next. They didn't want to know.

"There!" Warren called from the back of her Pegasus.

Sure enough, in the middle of the invading legion was Old Beefhead himself. The last time Percy had seen the Minotaur, he'd been wearing nothing but his tighty whities. He didn't know why. Maybe he'd been shaken out of bed to chase him. But this time, the monster was prepared for battle. From the waist down, he wore standard Greek battle gear- a kilt-like apron of leather and metal flaps, bronze greaves covered 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.

Taking in the sight of the Minortaur, all ten feet of him, Warren could hardly picture scrawny twelve year old Percy taking it on. Let alone taking it on and winning. A double-bladed axe, much like Ravager, was strapped to the monster's back, but he was too impatient to use it.