Most of the merchandise looked pretty ordinary: books, electronics, baby diapers. But against one wall sat a war chariot with a big bar code on the side. Hanging from the yoke was a sign that read: ONLY ONE LEFT IN STOCK. ORDER SOON! (MORE ON THE WAY)
Finally they entered a smaller cavern that looked like a combination loading zone and throne room. The walls were lined with metal shelves six stories high, decorated with war banners, painted shields, and the stuffed heads of dragons, hydras, giant lions, and wild boars. Standing guard along either side were dozens of forklifts modified for war. An iron-collared male drove each machine, but an Amazon warrior stood on a platform in back, manning a giant mounted crossbow. The prongs of each forklift had been sharpened into oversized sword blades.
The shelves in this room were stacked with cages containing live animals. Hazel couldn’t believe what she was seeing—black mastiffs, giant eagles, a lion-eagle hybrid that must’ve been a gryphon, and a red ant the size of a compact car.
She watched in horror as a forklift zipped into the room, picked up a cage with a beautiful white pegasus, and sped away while the horse whinnied in protest.
“What are you doing to that poor animal?” Hazel demanded.
Kinzie frowned. “The pegasus? It’ll be fine. Someone must’ve ordered it. The shipping and handling charges are steep, but—”
“You can buy a pegasus online?” Percy asked.
Kinzie glared at him. “Obviously you can’t, male. But Amazons can. We have followers all over the world. They need supplies. This way.”
At the end of the warehouse was a dais constructed from pallets of books: stacks of vampire novels, walls of James Patterson thrillers, and a throne made from about a thousand copies of something called The Five Habits of Highly Aggressive Women.
At the base of the steps, several Amazons in camouflage were having a heated argument while a young woman—Queen Hylla, Hazel assumed—watched and listened from her throne.
Hylla was in her twenties, lithe and lean as a tiger. She wore a black leather jumpsuit and black boots. She had no crown, but around her waist was a strange belt made of interlocking gold links, like the pattern of a labyrinth. Hazel couldn’t believe how much she looked like Reyna—a little older, perhaps, but with the same long black hair, the same dark eyes, and the same hard expression, like she was trying to decide which of the Amazons before her most deserved death.
Kinzie took one look at the argument and grunted with distaste. “Otrera’s agents, spreading their lies.”
“What?” Frank asked.
Then Hazel stopped so abruptly, the guards behind her stumbled. A few feet from the queen’s throne, two Amazons guarded a cage. Inside was a beautiful horse—not the winged kind, but a majestic and powerful stallion with a honey-colored coat and a black mane. His fierce brown eyes regarded Hazel, and she could swear he looked impatient, as if thinking: About time you got here.
“It’s him,” Hazel murmured.
“Him, who?” Percy asked.
Kinzie scowled in annoyance, but when she saw where Hazel was looking, her expression softened. “Ah, yes. Beautiful, isn’t he?”
Hazel blinked to make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. It was the same horse she’d chased in Alaska. She was sure of it…but that was impossible. No horse could live that long.
“Is he…” Hazel could hardly control her voice. “Is he for sale?”
The guards all laughed.
“That’s Arion,” Kinzie said patiently, as if she understood Hazel’s fascination. “He’s a royal treasure of the Amazons—to be claimed only by our most courageous warrior, if you believe the prophecy.”
“Prophecy?” Hazel asked.
Kinzie’s expression became pained, almost embarrassed. “Never mind. But no, he’s not for sale.”
“Then why is he in a cage?”
Kinzie grimaced. “Because…he is difficult.”
Right on cue, the horse slammed his head against the cage door. The metal bars shuddered, and the guards retreated nervously.
Hazel wanted to free that horse. She wanted it more than anything she had ever wanted before. But Percy, Frank, and a dozen Amazon guards were staring at her, so she tried to mask her emotions. “Just asking,” she managed. “Let’s see the queen.”
The argument at the front of the room grew louder. Finally the queen noticed Hazel’s group approaching, and she snapped, “Enough!”
The arguing Amazons shut up immediately. The queen waved them aside and beckoned Kinzie forward.
Kinzie shoved Hazel and her friends toward the throne. “My queen, these demigods—”
The queen shot to her feet. “You!”
She glared at Percy Jackson with murderous rage.
Percy muttered something in Ancient Greek that Hazel was pretty sure the nuns at St. Agnes wouldn’t have liked.
“Clipboard,” he said. “Spa. Pirates.”
This made no sense to Hazel, but the queen nodded. She stepped down from her dais of best sellers and drew a dagger from her belt.
“You were incredibly foolish to come here,” she said. “You destroyed my home. You made my sister and me exiles and prisoners.”