(Book 5)The Last Olympian by Rick Riordan

Author:Rick Riordan
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2013-06-05T18:30:00+00:00

CHAPTER TWELVE

RACHEL MAKES A BAD DEAL

I grabbed Wil Solace from the Apol o cabin and told the rest of his siblings to keep searching for Michael Yew. We borrowed a Yamaha FZI from a

sleeping biker and drove to the Plaza Hotel at speeds that would've given my mom a heart attack. I'd never driven a motorcycle before, but it wasn't any

harder than riding a pegasus. Along the way, I noticed a lot of empty pedestals that usual y held statues. Plan twenty-three seemed to be working. I didn't

know if that was good or bad.

It only took us five minutes to reach the Plaza-an old-fashioned white stone hotel with a gabled blue roof, sitting at the southeast corner of Central Park.

Tactical y speaking, the Plaza wasn't the best place for a headquarters. It wasn't the tal est building in town, or the most central y located. But it had old-school style and had attracted a lot of famous demigods over the years, like the Beatles and Alfred Hitchcock, so I figured we were in good company.

I gunned the Yamaha over the curb and swerved to a stop at the fountain outside the hotel.

Wil and I hopped off. The statue at the top of the fountain cal ed down, "Oh, fine. I suppose you want me to watch your bike too!" She was a life-size bronze standing in the middle of a granite bowl. She wore only a bronze sheet around her legs, and she was holding a basket of metal fruit. I'd never paid

her too much attention before. Then again, she'd never talked to me before.

"Are you supposed to be Demeter?" I asked.

A bronze apple sailed over my head.

"Everyone thinks I'm Demeter.'" she complained. "I'm Pompona, the Roman Goddess of Plenty, but why should you care? Nobody cares about the minor gods. If you cared about the minor gods, you wouldn't be losing this war! Three cheers for Morpheus and Hecate, I say!"

"Watch the bike," I told her.

Pompona cursed in Latin and threw more fruit as Wil and I ran toward the hotel.

I'd never actual y been inside the Plaza. The lobby was impressive, with the crystal chandeliers and the passed-out rich people, but I didn't pay much

attention. A couple of Hunters gave us directions to the elevators, and we rode up to the penthouse suites.

Demigods had completely taken over the top floors. Campers and Hunters were crashed out on sofas, washing up in the bathrooms, ripping silk

draperies to bandage their wounds, and helping themselves to snacks and sodas from the minibars. A couple of timber wolves were drinking out of the

toilets. I was relieved to see that so many of my friends had made it through the night alive, but everybody looked beat up.

"Percy!" Jake Mason clapped me on the shoulder. "We're getting reports-"

"Later," I said. "Where's Annabeth?"

"The terrace. She's alive, man, but . . ."

I pushed past him.

Under different circumstances I would've loved the view from the terrace. It looked straight down onto Central Park. The morning was clear and bright-

perfect for a picnic or a hike, or pretty much anything except fighting monsters.

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