The Furies hesitated.
Mrs. Dodds had felt Riptide's blade before. She obviously didn't like seeing it again.
"Submit now," she hissed. "And you will not suffer eternal torment."
"Nice try," I told her.
"Percy, look out!" Annabeth cried.
Mrs. Dodds lashed her whip around my sword hand while the Furies on the either side lunged at me.
My hand felt like it was wrapped in molten lead, but I managed not to drop Riptide. I stuck the Fury on the left with its hilt, sending her toppling backward into a seat. I turned and sliced the Fury on the right. As soon as the blade connected with her neck, she screamed and exploded into dust. Annabeth got Mrs. Dodds in a wrestler's hold and yanked her backward while Grover ripped the whip out of her hands.
"Ow!" he yelled. "Ow! Hot! Hot!"
The Fury I'd hilt-slammed came at me again, talons ready, but I swung Riptide and she broke open like a pi?ata.
Mrs. Dodds was trying to get Annabeth off her back. She kicked, clawed, hissed and bit, but Annabeth held on while Grover got Mrs. Dodds's legs tied up in her own whip. Finally they both shoved her backward into the aisle. Mrs. Dodds tried to get up, but she didn't have room to flap her bat wings, so she kept falling down.
"Zeus will destroy you!" she promised. "Hades will have your soul!"
"Braccas meas vescimini!" I yelled.
I wasn't sure where the Latin came from. I think it meant "Eat my pants!" Thunder shook the bus. The hair rose on the back of my neck.
"Get out!" Annabeth yelled at me. "Now!" I didn't need any encouragement. We rushed outside and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with the driver, or running around in circles yelling, "We're going to die!" A Hawaiian-shirted tourist with a camera snapped my photograph before I could recap my sword.
"Our bags!" Grover realized. "We left our—"
BOOOOOM!
The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof, but an angry wail from inside told me Mrs. Dodds was not yet dead.
"Run!" Annabeth said. "She's calling for reinforcements! We have to get out of here!" We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us, and nothing but darkness ahead.
11 WE VISIT THE GARDEN
GNOME EMPORIUM
In a way, it's nice to know there are Greek gods out there, because you have somebody to blame when things go wrong. For instance, when you're walking away from a bus that's just been attacked by monster hags and blown up by lightning, and it's raining on top of everything else, most people might think that's just really bad luck; when you're a halfblood, you understand that some divine force really is trying to mess up your day.
So there we were, Annabeth and Grover and I, walking through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank, the glow of New York City making the night sky yellow behind us, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in our noses.
Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror.
"Three Kindly Ones. All three at once."
I was pretty much in shock myself. The explosion of bus windows still rang in my ears. But Annabeth kept pulling us along, saying: "Come on! The farther away we get, the better."
"All our money was back there," I reminded her. "Our food and clothes. Everything."
"Well, maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight—"
"What did you want me to do? Let you get killed?"
"You didn't need to protect me, Percy. I would've been fine."
"Sliced like sandwich bread," Grover put in, "but fine."
"Shut up, goat boy," said Annabeth.
Grover brayed mournfully. "Tin cans ... a perfectly good bag of tin cans." We sloshed across mushy ground, through nasty twisted trees that smelled like sour laundry. After a few minutes, Annabeth fell into line next to me. "Look, I..." Her voice faltered. "I appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really brave."
"We're a team, right?"
She was silent for a few more steps. "It's just that if you died ... aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over. This may be my only chance to see the real world."
The thunderstorm had finally let up. The city glow faded behind us, leaving us in almost total darkness. I couldn't see anything of Annabeth except a glint of her blond hair.
"You haven't left Camp HalfBlood since you were seven?" I asked her.
"No ... only short field trips. My dad—"
"The history professor."
"Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp HalfBlood is my home." She was rushing her words out now, as if she were afraid somebody might try to stop her. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not."
If I didn't know better, I could've sworn I heard doubt in her voice.
"You're pretty good with that knife," I said.
"You think so?"