“Hmm…” Jason snapped his fingers. “I can call a friend for a ride.”
Percy raised his eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? Me too. Let’s see whose friend gets here first.”
Jason whistled. Piper knew what he was doing, but he’d succeeded in summoning Tempest only three times since they’d met the storm spirit at the Wolf House last winter. Today, the sky was so blue, Piper didn’t see how it could work.
Percy simply closed his eyes and concentrated.
Piper hadn’t studied him up close before. After hearing so much at Camp Half-Blood about Percy Jackson this and Percy Jackson that, she thought he looked…well, unimpressive, especially next to Jason. Percy was more slender, about an inch shorter, with slightly longer, much darker hair.
He wasn’t really Piper’s type. If she’d seen him in the mall somewhere, she probably would’ve thought he was a skater—cute in a scruffy way, a little on the wild side, definitely a troublemaker. She would have steered clear. She had enough trouble in her life. But she could see why Annabeth liked him, and she could definitely see why Percy needed Annabeth in his life. If anybody could keep a guy like that under control, it was Annabeth.
Thunder crackled in the clear sky.
Jason smiled. “Soon.”
“Too late.” Percy pointed east, where a black winged shape was spiraling toward them. At first, Piper thought it might be Frank in crow form. Then she realized it was much too big to be a bird.
“A black pegasus?” she said. “Never seen one like that.”
The winged stallion came in for a landing. He trotted over to Percy and nuzzled his face, then turned his head inquisitively toward Piper and Jason.
“Blackjack,” Percy said, “this is Piper and Jason. They’re friends.”
The horse nickered.
“Uh, maybe later,” Percy answered.
Piper had heard that Percy could speak to horses, being the son of the horse lord Poseidon, but she’d never seen it in action.
“What does Blackjack want?” she asked.
“Donuts,” Percy said. “Always donuts. He can carry all three of us if—”
Suddenly the air turned cold. Piper’s ears popped. About fifty yards away, a miniature cyclone three stories tall tore across the tops of the sunflowers like a scene from The Wizard of Oz. It touched down on the road next to Jason and took the form of a horse—a misty steed with lightning flickering through its body.
“Tempest,” Jason said, grinning broadly. “Long time, my friend.”

The Mark of Athena, Chapter X