ANNABETH'S VIEW.

It was supposed to be a very simple trip. Get on the LIRR, get off at Penn Station, and walk a few blocks to the Empire State building. Percy and I had left hours before we were supposed to be at the Council of the Gods, just to make sure we'd have some time to go over the presentation we'd planned for the Council (my idea), and stop at Grey's Papaya for hot dogs (Percy's idea).

Like I said, it was supposed to be simple.

I just forgot that somewhere in or on the entity that is Percy Jackson, there's a big neon sign that only monsters of the underworld can read, a sign that says Please Try To Kill Me As Often As Possible, Probably In A Gruesome Manner.

As we exit Penn Station, I start rehearsing in my head on the way. Kronos is on the way, with his army. We need all the major gods and goddesses to align behind Camp Half-Blood with Percy as the main camp leader, since he's the Big Hero of the Prophecy. Any help you can give us...

This is mostly wishful thinking, I know. It'll take quite a bit of maneuvering to get them all on our side, especially since most of Zeus's court tends to treat Camp Half-Blood like the kids there are cute little stuffed animals. Or just ignore us altogether.

We've already got Poseidon, obviously, and we can usually count on Athena for help, although not always. Ares will back us so long as things stay reasonably violent. Zeus and Hera will be the hardest to win over, given our history with them in the last few years, but we don't stand a chance if either of them oppose us. I start to tick the others off on my fingers – Artemis, Apollo, both on our side. Hephaestus, Demeter, both on the fence. Aphrodite –

Really not sure about Aphrodite.

Percy keeps trying to make conversation, even though I'm trying to send the 'Busy Thinking' signal.

"Kind of cold for August, huh?"

"Mm," I say. We'll never get Dionysus, or Hades – not with Percy as the mascot –

"Good thing you brought your coat."

"Mm."

Who am I forgetting? I know there's someone else –

"Annabeth? Hey –"

Hermes, of course, but he'll be one of the trickiest to play –

But in addition to forgetting Hermes, I also forgot the number one rule of visiting New York, which is: don't get hit by a car (the number two rule is don't get hit by a bus; buses hurt more, but pay less in insurance). Thankfully I didn't actually get hit by the taxi that came screaming past, horn blaring, but that was mostly due to Percy grabbing my elbow and pulling me back onto the sidewalk.

"Annabeth!"

I blinked and shook my head as my eyes came back into focus. "Sorry. I was just thinking…"

"I can see that," he grinned, edging around the bustling crowd of pedestrians. "You could at least have the decency to scream in terror though, maybe have a short fainting spell."

"Excuse me?"

"You know, like Lois Lane. Or whoever Batman's girlfriend is."

I rolled my eyes at him. "We daughters of Athena are made of sterner stuff than – " I get a bitter taste in my mouth " – than those comic books girls."

(I nearly said "those Aphrodite girls", because rumor has it that Joe Shuster and Jeremy Siegel were both under Aphrodite's spell at the time they were penning the Golden Age comics, due to a fateful run-in at a bar with a pin-up girl, a cop in disguise, and a very form-fitting dress. I switched tracks at the last second, when I remembered the whole Percy dating Silena thing)

"Well, nothing like a near-death experience with a yellow cab to get the adrenaline pumping, anyway," Percy said. He seemed to be in much better spirits than earlier in the day. He hadn't said much on the ride in, but I could tell he was trying to put a good face on for his dad and the other gods. And coming back to Manhattan always made him more cheerful.

"You know," I said, allowing myself to lighten up a little too, "if you were a superhero, I don't think you'd be Superman or Batman."

"Why not? I'm from New York, so are they –"

"Superman is from Metropolis. And Batman is from Gotham."

"Same thing."

"No it isn't. Didn't you ever see the movies?"

"Uh… Which one was the one with Kirsten Dunst? As a red head."

Always with the red heads.

"That was Spiderman, Mr. Seaweed," I roll my eyes again, adding, "anyway, none of them have any of the same powers as you."

"Except the power of being awesome, you mean."

"The only superhero with water powers is Aquaman. Do you want to be Aquaman?"

"No! I am not going to be Aquaman!" he huffed, then twirled pen-Riptide through his fingers. "What about Captain America? I could be Captain America –"

"Captain America doesn't have a sword, just the mighty shield –"

"Well, I used to have one of those –"

"Not the same," I tut, shaking my head. "He used his for defense as much as offense, and there's a big difference between – "

And then I scream at the top of my lungs.

Percy shoves me toward a building as a razor-sharp claw goes whistling through the air where my neck used to be. He whips out Riptide, hacking off the hand of the claw's owner, a seven-foot tall and very scaly Telekhine. The Telekhine immediately starts to yap – actually it sounds a lot like the taxi that nearly hit me earlier –

And then the street is full of Telekhines.

Pedestrians get shoved aside as at least a dozen Telekhines come pouring from the nearest doorway. They're all pointing and yapping, except the nearest ones, who are slashing at us with all their might.

I draw my knife from my boot, but before I have a good grip on it, one of the Telekhines barrels into my shoulder, and the knife goes clattering onto the sidewalk. I lunge to recover it, spinning as soon as I do to stick the knife into the neck of the Telekhine that attacked me. It yaps one more time before crumbling to dust.

I pivot back to where Percy is facing off with four or five Telekhines, dancing away from them as he pulls on his jacket – is now the time? – and while he does, I duck almost all the way to the sidewalk, scrambling into a sideways roll at the last second to avoid getting slashed in the face.

I look up – we're only a block or two from the Empire State, but the way forward is now crawling with Telekhines. The other people on the street are screaming something about truants and gangs; I see a girl recording the fight on her cell phone.

"We'll never get through –" I start, but Percy grabs my elbow with his free hand.

"The subway –" he manages, jerking his head back the way we came.

Percy heaves Riptide in a wide arc, slicing through three Telekhines in a row, who all crumble to dust, but there are plenty more on the way. I block with my elbow as one of them swipes at Percy's sword arm. The Telekhine yaps at me, but I stab him in the head and he's gone.

We take off running, Percy in the lead, and reach the subway entrance well ahead of the Telekhines. They're still on our tail though, judging by the barking noises coming from the street overhead –

"Hurry, there's a train –"

Percy jumps four stairs to the platform entrance and slides through the gate.

"Percy!" I yelp as he heads toward the train. I'm stuck at the turnstile, frantically rummaging through my purse looking for the Metrocard I stashed somewhere or other. He doubles back and passes me his card through the bars with an "Are you kidding me" that I think I probably deserve. I get through the turnstile just as the first Telekhine gets down the stairs, and as we sprint for the train, the Telekhine rams against the gate, barking its head off.

I smirk over my shoulder. They may be evil seadog demons who will stop at nothing in their quest to take our heads off, but they've still got to pay the fare if they want to ride.

Percy and I practically fly down the second set of stairs, and he pulls me toward the very end of the tunnel, where the subway car is slowing to a stop. When we reach the end of the tunnel, we launch ourselves inside the car, and Percy presses his hands to his knees, gasping for breath. I pretty much collapse into the nearest chair, grateful that we're still well shy of rush hour. The handful of other people on the car are giving us weird looks, but at least I can sit down a minute.

"Just like the good old days, huh?" Percy mutters.

All I can manage is a noncommittal "nuh," which is short for "I'm still catching my breath."

There's a loud wrenching crash, and I think the turnstile just went clattering down the stairs. Never mind about paying the fare, I guess.

The people still on the platform yelp about terrorists and hooligans as they jump out of the way of the broken turnstile sliding across the floor. The people in our car keep giving us suspicious looks and semi-politely scooting further away. I don't care; I just want the car to leave before the Telekhines catch up to us.

An annoyed voice comes over the loudspeaker: "Please stand away from the closing doors –"

Percy goes to stand next to the door, which keeps trying to close and then swinging back open; the Telekhines must be holding the doors open at the back of the train. I can hear more of them on the stairs – Percy twirls Riptide (in pen form) through his fingers nervously.

The voice on the loudspeaker repeats its message, and adds that the train is now departing – but the door still isn't closing – I pull myself to my feet to stand next to Percy, but he pushes me away from the door, pressing himself as far away from the line of sight of the Telekhines on the platform as possible, but judging by the excited squeaks a few of them are now making, it doesn't matter, they've seen us –

But finally the door to the car dings closed.

We start to speed out of the station just as the Telekhines arrive at the door to our car. They yap at the window, but we're already moving –Percy tugs me away, out of their line of sight, and as the car sways with motion, then speeds down the tunnel, we look at each other and exhale together.

A mutter of alarm goes through the other passengers, and I wonder how much demon sea dog they were able to see through the Mist.

"It's ok, folks –" Percy says loudly. "We're, uh, stunt doubles – "

"New TV show," I pitch in. "Telekhine Troubles, coming this fall!"

"Only on…"

"NBC," I say, as Percy says "CBS."

"Who watches CBS?" I hiss under my breath, before adding another loud "Only on NBC!"

A few people are still giving us weird looks, but most of them return to their books or phones. We settle in to two seats apart from everyone else.

"Paul watches CBS," Percy mutters to me.

"Yeah, but Paul also sings Billie Holliday in the shower."

"So?"

"So your mom kind of has unusual taste in men, that's all."

"Well, I won't argue with that, but be careful not to tell her. This is the F train – " Percy says, around a few coughs as he clears his throat. "We can take it right up to my mom's apartment, hide out there until the Council starts, but we might have to get past a few Telekhines if any of them got on at the last stop –"

"But what are they doing so close to Mount Olympus?" I interrupt. "Shouldn't the guards have –"

"I dunno," he sighs. "But I'm pretty sure they knew the two of us were going to be there."

"Which means that the secret Council of the Gods was not really very secret. And that whoever sent them was after you in particular, or maybe both of us –"

"Probably me."
"Yeah, probably," I agree. I pause to think, but Percy coughs again and clears his throat.

"By the way, that was a really good scream of terror, earlier," he says around more coughing. "Definitely Lois Lane-worthy."

"Actually Lois was never much of a screamer. Maybe Mary Jane or Pepper Potts."

"How –" he panted, "do you know so much about comic books anyway?"

"Tim Daly, in my cabin. His grand-dad was Jack Kirby."

"Who?"

"Aw come on," I groan. "Jack Kirby?"

"No, I really don't know who that is."

"You gotta be kidding me," I smile, drawing myself up, and he leans back as I prepare my Brief Lecture on Comic Book History in my head for the next two and a half seconds. He has this huge exhilarated grin on his face, which is still completely white, like he's –

Like he's –

Like he's been bleeding profusely from a massive wound in his chest for the last ten minutes, which he only managed to hide from me by pulling on his jacket at an inopportune moment nine minutes ago.

But there are big patches of red on the jacket now, red that has seeped through the thickest North Face fleece that Paul's money can buy. Percy sees me staring and tries to pull his jacket closer, but I push his hands away – I gasp –

"Percy –"

"It's fine –"

Blood everywhere, Percy "fine", and Telekhines probably waiting for us at the next stop.

Yep. Just like old times.