The Last Olympian

Everything looked normal, but something was wrong. I felt it in my bones before I realized what it was.
    “I don’t . . . hear anything,” Annabeth said.
    That was the problem.
    Even from this height, I should’ve heard the noise of the city—millions of people bustling around, thousands of cars and machines—the hum of a huge metropolis. You don’t think about it when you live in New York, but it’s always there. Even in the dead of night, New York is never silent.
    But it was now.
    I felt like my best friend had suddenly dropped dead.
    “What did they do?” My voice sounded tight and angry. “What did they do to my city?”
    I pushed Michael Yew away from the binoculars and took a look.
    In the streets below, traffic had stopped. Pedestrians were lying on the sidewalks, or curled up in doorways. There was no sign of violence, no wrecks, nothing like that. It was as if all the people in New York had simply decided to stop whatever they were doing and pass out.
    “Are they dead?” Silena asked in astonishment.
    Ice coated my stomach. A line from the prophecy rang in my ears: And see the world in endless sleep . I remembered Grover’s story about meeting the god Morpheus in Central Park. You’re lucky I’m saving my energy for the main event.
    “Not dead,” I said. “Morpheus has put the entire island of Manhattan to sleep. The invasion has started.”

TEN

I BUY SOME NEW
FRIENDS
    Mrs. O’Leary was the only one happy about the sleeping city.
    We found her pigging out at an overturned hot dog stand while the owner was curled up on the sidewalk, sucking his thumb.
    Argus was waiting for us with his hundred eyes wide open. He didn’t say anything. He never does. I guess that’s because he supposedly has an eyeball on his tongue. But his face made it clear he was freaking out.
    I told him what we’d learned in Olympus, and how the gods would not be riding to the rescue. Argus rolled his eyes in disgust, which looked pretty psychedelic since it made his whole body swirl.
    “You’d better get back to camp,” I told him. “Guard it as best you can.”
    He pointed at me and raised his eyebrow quizzically.
    “I’m staying,” I said.
    Argus nodded, like this answer satisfied him. He looked at Annabeth and drew a circle in the air with his finger.
    “Yes,” Annabeth agreed. “I think it’s time.”
    “For what?” I asked.
    Argus rummaged around in the back of his van. He brought out a bronze shield and passed it to Annabeth. It looked pretty much standard issue—the same kind of round shield we always used in capture the flag. But when Annabeth set it on the ground, the reflection on the polished metal changed from sky and buildings to the Statue of Liberty—which wasn’t anywhere close to us.
    “Whoa,” I said. “A video shield.”
    “One of Daedalus’s ideas,” Annabeth said. “I had Beckendorf make this before—” She glanced at Silena. “Um, anyway, the shield bends sunlight or moonlight from anywhere in the world to create a reflection. You can literally see any target under the sun or moon, as long as natural light is touching it. Look.”
    We crowded around as Annabeth concentrated. The image zoomed and spun at first, so I got motion sickness just watching it. We were in the Central Park Zoo, then zooming down East 60th, past Bloomingdale’s, then turning on Third Avenue.
    “Whoa,” Connor Stoll said. “Back up. Zoom in right there.”
    “What?” Annabeth said nervously. “You see invaders?”
    “No, right there—Dylan’s Candy Bar.” Connor grinned at his brother. “Dude, it’s open. And everyone is asleep. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
    “Connor!” Katie Gardner scolded. She sounded like her mother, Demeter. “This is serious. You are not going to loot a candy store in the middle of a war!”
    “Sorry,” Connor muttered, but he didn’t sound very ashamed.
    Annabeth passed her hand in front of the shield, and another scene popped up: FDR Drive, looking across the river at Lighthouse Park.
    “This will let us see what’s going on across the city,” she said. “Thank you, Argus. Hopefully we’ll see you back at camp . . . someday.”
    Argus grunted. He gave me a look that clearly meant Good luck; you’ll need it , then climbed into his van. He and the two harpy drivers swerved away, weaving around clusters of idle cars that littered the road.
    I whistled for Mrs. O’Leary, and she came bounding over.
    “Hey, girl,” I said. “You