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. He

seemed larger than the last time I'd seen him — ten feet tall at least. A

double-bladed axe was strapped to his back, but he was too impatient to use it.

As soon as he saw me circling overhead (or sniffed me, more likely, since his

eyesight was bad), he bellowed and picked up a white limousine.

 

"Blackjack, dive!" I yelled.

 

What? The pegasus asked. No way could he . . . Holy horse feed!

 

We were at least a hundred feet up, but the limo came sailing toward us,

flipping fender over fender like a two-ton boomerang. Annabeth and Porkpie

swerved madly to the left, while Blackjack tucked in his wings and plunged. The

limo sailed over my head, missing by maybe two inches. It cleared the suspension

lines of the bridge and fell toward the East River.

 

Monsters jeered and shouted, and the Minotaur picked up another car.

 

"Drop us behind the lines with the Apollo cabin," I told Blackjack. "Stay in

earshot but get out of danger! "

 

I ain 't gonna argue, boss!

 

Blackjack swooped down behind an overturned school bus, where a couple of