Percy Jackson and the Singer of Apollo by Rick Riordan

Author:Rick Riordan
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: Disney Book Group
Published: 2017-08-10T16:00:00+00:00

You’re probably wondering why I didn’t put more wax in my ears. For one thing, I didn’t have any. For another thing, wax melting out of my ears hurts. And maybe part of me was thinking: Hey, I’m a demigod. This time I’m prepared. I can face the music, literally.

Grover assured me he had the lyre figured out. No more enchiladas or bricks falling from the sky. I just had to find the Celedon, catch her by surprise, and distract her by…well, I hadn’t figured out that part yet.

We took the elevator to the top floor and found stairs to the roof. I wished I could fly, but that wasn’t one of my powers, and my pegasus friend Blackjack hadn’t been answering my calls for help lately. (He gets a little distracted in the springtime when he’s searching the skies for cute lady pegasi.)

Once we made it to the roof, the Celedon was easy to find. She was in human form, standing at the edge of the building with her arms spread, serenading Times Square with her own rendition of “New York, New York.”

I really hate that song. I don’t know anybody who’s actually from New York who doesn’t hate that song, but hearing her sing it made me hate it a whole lot more.

Anyway, she had her back to us, so we had an advantage. I was tempted to sneak up behind her and push her off, but she was so strong I hadn’t been able to budge her before. Besides, she’d probably just turn into a bird and…Hmm. A bird.

An idea formed in my mind. Yes, I do get ideas sometimes.

“Grover,” I said, “can you use the lyre to summon a birdcage? Like a really strong one, made from Celestial bronze?”

He pursed his lips. “I suppose, but birds shouldn’t be caged, Percy. They should be free! They should fly and—” He looked at the Celedon. “Oh, you mean—”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good,” I said. “Just wait for my cue. Do you still have that blindfold from Pin the Tail on the Human?”

He handed me the strip of cloth. I shrank my sword to ballpoint-pen form and slipped it in the pocket of my jeans. I’d need both hands free for this. I crept up on the Celedon, who was now belting out the final chorus.

Even though she was facing the other way, her music filled me with the urge to dance (which, believe me, you never want to see). I forced myself to keep going, but fighting her magic was like pushing my way through a row of heavy drapes.

My plan was simple: gag the Celedon. She would turn back into a bird and try to escape. I would grab her and shove her into a birdcage. What could go wrong?

On the last line of “New York, New York,” I jumped on her back, locking my legs around her waist and yanking the blindfold across her mouth like a horse’s bridle.

Her grand finale was cut short with a “New Yor—urff!”

“Grover, now!” I yelled.

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