That wasn't very reassuring. Grand Central lay dead ahead. Above the main

entrance stood the giant statue of Hermes, which I guess hadn't been activated

because it was so high up. I was flying right toward him at the speed of

demigod-smashing.

 

"Stay alert!" I told Blackjack. "I've got an idea."

 

Oh, I hate your ideas.

 

I swung outward with all my might. Instead of smashing into the Hermes statue, I

whipped around it, circling the rope under its arms. I thought this would tether

the pig, but I'd underestimated the momentum of a thirty-ton sow in flight. Just

as the pig wrenched the statue loose from its pedestal, I let go. Hermes went

for a ride, taking my place as the pig's passenger, and I free-fell toward the

street.

 

In that split second I thought about the days when my mom used to work at the

Grand Central candy shop. I thought how bad it would be if I ended up as a

grease spot on the pavement.

 

Then a shadow swooped under me, and thump — I was on Blackjack's back. It wasn't

the most comfortable landing. In fact, when I yelled "OW!" my voice was an

octave higher than usual.

 

Sorry, boss, Blackjack murmured.