The Forbidden Daughter | PJO Book One

nine

CAUGHT

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 her skin.

They lost the van twice, but she 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?" Ariana muttered.

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

"Which girl?"

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

"Zoe?"

That's the one. 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 Ariana that Zoe could drive.

She didn't look sixteen. Then again, she was immortal. She 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 them.

Something was curling around their legs like a snake. She reached for dagger, but when she 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, lashing down her and Percy's 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!

Mr. D sighed in exasperation. "The next person, or horse, who calls me the 'wine dude' will end up in a bottle of Merlot!"

"Mr. D." Percy tried to keep his voice calm as the grape vines continued to wrap around their legs. "What do you want?"

"Oh, what do I want? You thought, perhaps, that the immortal, all-powerful director of camp would not notice you leaving without permission?"

"Well... maybe." Ariana said, shrugging.

"I should throw you off this building, minus the flying horse, and see how heroic you sound on the way down."

"Let's not. I'd rather not have to see my sperm donor right now." Ariana said.

"Why do you hate us so much? What did we ever do to you?" Percy shouted.

Purple flames flickered in his eyes. "You're a hero, boy. I need no other reason."