The Titan lord studied the problem. He looked behind him at the rising sun, then

smiled across the chasm. He raised his scythe in a mock salute. "Until this

evening, Jackson."

 

He mounted his horse, whirled around, and galloped back to Brooklyn, followed by

his warriors.

 

I turned to tha nk Michael Yew, but the words died in my throat. Twenty feet

away, a bow lay in the street. Its owner was nowhere to be seen.

 

"No!" I searched the wreckage on my side of the bridge. I stared down at the

river. Nothing.

 

I yelled in anger and frustration. The sound carried forever in the morning

stillness. I was about to whistle for Blackjack to help me search, when my mom's

phone rang. The LCD display said I had a call from Finklestein & Associates —

probably a demigod calling on a borrowed phone.

 

I picked up, hoping for good news. Of course I was wrong.

 

"Percy?" Silena Beauregard sounded like she'd been crying. "Plaza Hotel. You'd

better come quickly and bring a healer from Apollo's cabin. It's . . . it's

Annabeth."

 

TWELVE