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A Negotiation with a Titan

Theo's POV

I grabbed Will Solace from the Apollo cabin and told the rest of his siblings to keep searching for Michael Yew. We got in the Mercedes and drove towards the Plaza Hotel at speeds that would make a Formula 1 driver shake in his race suit, while Percy borrowed a Yamaha FZI from a sleeping biker and followed close behind.

It only took us five minutes to reach the Plaza—an old-fashioned white stone hotel with a gabled blue roof, sitting at the southeast corner of Central Park.

Tactically speaking, the Plaza wasn't the best place for a headquarters. It wasn't the tallest building in town, or the most centrally located. But it had old-school style and had attracted a lot of famous demigods over the years, like the Beatles and Alfred Hitchcock, so I figured we were in good company.

I slammed the brakes, forcing the car into a complete stop, before turning off the engine. Will and I got out of the car, and I pressed the lock button before we ran towards the entrance.

We didn't even stop to look at the statue of Pompana, Roman Goddess of Plenty, sitting at the top of the fountain.

Theo: Watch the car.

Will and I ran past Pompana, who grumbled something in Latin.

I'd never actually been inside the Plaza. The lobby was impressive, with the crystal chandeliers and the passed-out rich people, but I didn't pay much attention. A couple of Hunters gave us directions to the elevators, and we rode up to the penthouse suites.

Demigods had completely taken over the top floors. Campers and Hunters were crashed out on sofas, washing up in the bathrooms, ripping silk draperies to bandage their wounds, and helping themselves to snacks and sodas from the minibars. A couple of timber wolves were drinking out of the toilets. I was relieved to see that so many of my friends had made it through the night alive, but everybody looked beat up.

Jake: Theo! Where's Percy? We're getting reports—

Theo: He's close behind. Where's Annabeth?

Jake: The terrace. She's alive, man, but...

I pushed past him, and Will followed me.

Under different circumstances I would've loved the view from the terrace. It looked straight down onto Central Park. The morning was clear and bright—perfect for a picnic or a hike, or pretty much anything except fighting monsters.

Annabeth lay on a lounge chair. Her face was pale and beaded with sweat. Even though she was covered in blankets, she shivered. Silena Beauregard was wiping her forehead with a cool cloth. Will and I pushed through a crowd of Athena kids. Will unwrapped Annabeth's bandages to examine the wound, and I wanted to faint. The bleeding had stopped but the gash looked deep. The skin around the cut was a horrible shade of green.

Theo: Fuck, Annabeth...

Annabeth: Poison on the dagger. Pretty stupid of me, huh?

Will: (sighs) It's not so bad, Annabeth. A few more minutes and we would've been in trouble, but the venom hasn't gotten past the shoulder yet. Just lie still. Somebody hand me some nectar.

I grabbed a canteen. Will cleaned out the wound with the godly drink while I held Annabeth's hand.

Annabeth: Ow! Ow! Ow!

She gripped my fingers so tight they turned purple, but she stayed still, like Will asked. Silena muttered words of encouragement. Will put some silver paste over the wound and hummed words in Ancient Greek—a hymn to Apollo. Then he applied fresh bandages and stood up shakily.