The Last Olympian

a chink in their armor, and the unlucky snake woman would disintegrate, but most of the Apollo arrows glanced harmlessly off their shield wall. About a hundred more monsters marched behind them.
    Hellhounds leaped ahead of the line from time to time. Most were destroyed with arrows, but one got hold of an Apollo camper and dragged him away. I didn’t see what happened to him next. I didn’t want to know.
    “There!” Annabeth called from the back of her pegasus.
    Sure enough, in the middle of the invading legion was Old Beefhead himself.
    The last time I’d seen the Minotaur, he’d been wearing nothing but his tighty whities. I don’t know why. Maybe he’d been shaken out of bed to chase me. This time, he was prepared for battle.
    From the waist down, he wore standard Greek battle gear—a kiltlike apron of leather and metal flaps, bronze greaves covering his legs, and tightly wrapped 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 campers were hiding. Annabeth and I leaped off as soon as our pegasi’s hooves touched the pavement. Then Blackjack and Porkpie soared into the night sky.
    Michael Yew ran up to us. He was definitely the shortest commando I’d ever seen. He had a bandaged cut on his arm. His ferrety face was smeared with soot and his quiver was almost empty, but he was smiling like he was having a great time.
    “Glad you could join us,” he said. “Where are the other reinforcements?”
    “For now, we’re it,” I said.
    “Then we’re dead,” he said.
    “You still have your flying chariot?” Annabeth asked.
    “Nah,” Michael said. “Left it at camp. I told Clarisse she could have it. Whatever, you know? Not worth fighting about anymore. But she said it was too late. We’d insulted her honor for the last time or some stupid thing.”
    “Least you tried,” I said.
    Michael shrugged. “Yeah, well, I called her some names when she said she still wouldn’t fight. I doubt that helped. Here come the uglies!”
    He drew an arrow and launched it toward the enemy. The arrow made a screaming sound as it flew. When it landed, it unleashed a blast like a power chord on an electric guitar magnified through the world’s largest speakers. The nearest cars exploded. Monsters dropped their weapons and clasped their ears in pain. Some ran. Others disintegrated on the spot.
    “That was my last sonic arrow,” Michael said.
    “A gift from your dad?” I asked. “God of music?”
    Michael grinned wickedly. “Loud music can be bad for you. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always kill.”
    Sure enough, most monsters were regrouping, shaking off their confusion.
    “We have to fall back,” Michael said. “I’ve got Kayla and Austin setting traps farther down the bridge.”
    “No,” I said. “Bring your campers forward to this position and wait for my signal. We’re going to drive the enemy back to Brooklyn.”
    Michael laughed. “How do you plan to do that?”
    I drew my sword.
    “Percy,” Annabeth said, “let me come with you.”
    “Too dangerous,” I said. “Besides, I need you to help Michael coordinate the defensive line. I’ll distract the monsters. You group up here. Move the sleeping mortals out of the way. Then you can start picking off monsters while I keep them focused on me. If anybody can do all that, you can.”
    Michael snorted.