The Titan's Curse

backward. And then it was still.
    Alarms wailed throughout the museum. People were flocking to the exits. Security guards were running around in a panic with no idea what was going on.
    Grover knelt at Thalia’s side and helped her up. She seemed okay, just a little dazed. Zoë and Bianca dropped from the balcony and landed next to me.
    Zoë eyed me cautiously. “That was . . . an interesting strategy.”
    “Hey, it worked.”
    She didn’t argue.
    The lion seemed to be melting, the way dead monsters do sometimes, until there was nothing left but its glittering fur coat, and even that seemed to be shrinking to the size of a normal lion’s pelt.
    “Take it,” Zoë told me.
    I stared at her. “What, the lion’s fur? Isn’t that, like, an animal rights violation or something?”
    “It is a spoil of war,” she told me. “It is rightly thine.”
    “You killed it,” I said.
    She shook her head, almost smiling. “I think thy ice-cream sandwich did that. Fair is fair, Percy Jackson. Take the fur.”
    I lifted it up; it was surprisingly light. The fur was smooth and soft. It didn’t feel at all like something that could stop a blade. As I watched, the pelt shifted and changed into a coat—a full-length golden-brown duster.
    “Not exactly my style,” I murmured.
    “We have to get out of here,” Grover said. “The security guards won’t stay confused for long.”
    I noticed for the first time how strange it was that the guards hadn’t rushed forward to arrest us. They were scrambling in all directions except ours, like they were madly searching for something. A few were running into the walls or each other.
    “You did that?” I asked Grover.
    He nodded, looking a little embarrassed. “A minor confusion song. I played some Barry Manilow. It works every time. But it’ll only last a few seconds.”
    “The security guards are not our biggest worry,” Zoë said. “Look.”
    Through the glass walls of the museum, I could see a group of men walking across the lawn. Gray men in gray camouflage outfits. They were too far away for us to see their eyes, but I could feel their gaze aimed straight at me.
    “Go,” I said. “They’ll be hunting me. I’ll distract them.”
    “No,” Zoë said. “We go together.”
    I stared at her. “But, you said—”
    “You are part of this quest now,” Zoë said grudgingly. “I do not like it, but there is no changing fate. You are the fifth quest member. And we are not leaving anyone behind.”

ELEVEN

GROVER GETS A LAMBORGHINI
    We were crossing the Potomac when we spotted the helicopter. It was a sleek, black military model just like the one we’d seen at Westover Hall. And it was coming straight toward us.
    “They know the van,” I said. “We have to ditch it.”
    Zoë swerved into the fast lane. The helicopter was gaining.
    “Maybe the military will shoot it down,” Grover said hopefully.
    “The military probably thinks it’s one of theirs,” I said. “How can the General use mortals, anyway?”
    “Mercenaries,” Zoë said bitterly. “It is distasteful, but many mortals will fight for any cause as long as they are paid.”
    “But don’t these mortals see who they’re working for?” I asked. “Don’t they notice all the monsters around them?”
    Zoë shook her head. “I do not know how much they see through the Mist. I doubt it would matter to them if they knew the truth. Sometimes mortals can be more horrible than monsters.”
    The helicopter kept coming, making a lot better time than we were through D.C. traffic.
    Thalia closed her eyes and prayed hard. “Hey, Dad. A lightning bolt would be nice about now. Please?”
    But the sky stayed gray and snowy. No sign of a helpful thunderstorm.
    “There!” Bianca said. “That parking lot!”
    “We’ll be trapped,” Zoë said.
    “Trust me,” Bianca said.
    Zoë shot across two lanes of traffic and into a mall parking lot on the south bank of the river. We left the van and followed Bianca down some steps.
    “Subway entrance,” Bianca said. “Let’s go south. Alexandria.”
    “Anything,” Thalia agreed.
    We bought tickets and got through the turnstiles, looking behind us for any signs of pursuit. A few minutes later we were safely aboard a southbound train, riding away from D.C. As our train came above ground, we could see the helicopter circling the parking lot, but it didn’t come after us.
    Grover let out a sigh. “Nice job, Bianca, thinking of the subway.”
    Bianca looked