The Demigod Diaries (The Heroes of Olympus)(18)

“By five.” I didn’t have a watch, but I was pretty sure it was at least one o’clock already. “Can you be more specific about where Cacus is?”

Hermes shrugged. “I’m sure you can figure that out. And just a warning: Cacus breathes fire.”

“Naturally,” I said.

“And do be mindful of the caduceus. The tip can turn people to stone. I had to do that once with this horrible tattletale named Battus…but I’m sure you’ll be careful. And of course you’ll keep this as our little secret.”

He smiled winningly. Maybe I was imagining that he’d just threatened to petrify me if I told anyone about the theft.

I swallowed the sawdust taste out of my mouth. “Of course.”

“You’ll do it, then?”

An idea occurred to me. Yes—I do get ideas occasionally.

“How about we trade favors?” I suggested. “I help you with your embarrassing situation; you help me with mine.”

Hermes raised an eyebrow. “What did you have in mind?”

“You’re the god of travel, right?”

“Of course.” I told him what I wanted for my reward.

I was in better spirits when I rejoined Annabeth. I’d made arrangements to meet Hermes at Rockefeller Center no later than five, and his delivery truck had disappeared in a flash of light. Annabeth waited by our picnic site with her arms folded indignantly.

“Well?” she demanded.

“Good news.” I told her what we had to do.

She didn’t slap me, but she looked like she wanted to. “Why is tracking down a fire-breathing giant good news? And why do I want to help out Hermes?”

“He’s not so bad,” I said. “Besides, two innocent snakes are in trouble. George and Martha must be terrified—”

“Is this an elaborate joke?” she asked. “Tell me you planned this with Hermes, and we’re actually going to a surprise party for our anniversary.”

“Um…Well, no. But afterward, I promise—”

Annabeth raised her hand. “You’re cute and you’re sweet, Percy. But please—no more promises. Let’s just find this giant.”

She stowed our blanket in her backpack and put away the food. Sad…since I’d barely tasted any of the pizza. The only thing she kept out was her shield.

Like a lot of magic items, it was designed to morph into a smaller item for easy carrying. The shield shrinks to plate size, which is what we’d been using it for. Great for cheese and crackers.

Annabeth brushed off the crumbs and tossed the plate into the air. It expanded as it spun. When it landed in the grass it was a full-sized bronze shield, its highly polished surface reflecting the sky.

The shield had come in handy during our war with the Titans, but I wasn’t sure how it could help us now.

“That thing only shows aerial images, right?” I asked. “Cacus is supposed to be underground.”

Annabeth shrugged. “Worth a try. Shield, I want to see Cacus.”

Light rippled across the bronze surface.

Instead of a reflection, we were looking down at a landscape of dilapidated warehouses and crumbling roads. A rusty water tower rose above the urban blight.

Annabeth snorted. “This stupid shield has a sense of humor.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“That’s Secaucus, New Jersey. Read the sign on the water tower.” She rapped her knuckles on the bronze surface. “Okay, very funny, shield. Now I want to see—I mean, show me the location of the fire-breathing giant Cacus.”

The image changed.

This time I saw a familiar part of Manhattan: renovated warehouses, brick-paved streets, a glass hotel, and an elevated train track that had been turned into a park with trees and wildflowers. I remembered my mom and stepdad taking me there a few years ago when it first opened.

“That’s the High Line park,” I said. “In the Meatpacking District.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth agreed. “But where’s the giant?”

She frowned in concentration. The shield zoomed in on an intersection blocked off with orange barricades and detour signs. Construction equipment sat idle in the shadow of the High Line. Chiseled in the street was a big square hole, cordoned off with yellow police tape. Steam billowed from the pit.

I scratched my head. “Why would the police seal off a hole in the street?”

“I remember this,” Annabeth said. “It was on the news yesterday.”

“I don’t watch the news.”

“A construction worker got hurt. Some freak accident way below the surface. They were digging a new service tunnel or something, and a fire broke out.”

“A fire,” I said. “As in, maybe a fire-breathing giant?”

“That would make sense,” she agreed. “The mortals wouldn’t understand what was happening. The Mist would obscure what they really saw. They’d think the giant was just like—I don’t know—a gas explosion or something.”

“So let’s catch a cab.”

Annabeth gazed wistfully across the Great Lawn. “First sunny day in weeks, and my boyfriend wants to take me to a dangerous cave to fight a fire-breathing giant.”

“You’re awesome,” I said.