The guard Doris pulled on Hazel’s arm. “Well? Come on.”
Hazel concentrated on the wall of jewelry next to her: forty large boxes of silver bracelets. “Not…feeling so good.”
“You are not throwing up on me,” Doris growled. She tried to yank Hazel to her feet, but Hazel went limp, like a kid throwing a fit in a store. Next to her, the boxes began to tremble.
“Lulu!” Doris yelled to one of her comrades. “Help me with this lame little girl.”
Amazons named Doris and Lulu? Hazel thought. Okay...
The second guard jogged over. Hazel figured this was her best chance. Before they could haul her to her feet, she yelled, “Ooooh!” and flattened herself against the catwalk.
Doris started to say, “Oh, give me a—”
The entire pallet of jewelry exploded with a sound like a thousand slot machines hitting the jackpot. A tidal wave of silver friendship bracelets poured across the catwalk, washing Doris and Lulu right over the railing. They would’ve fallen to their deaths, but Hazel wasn’t that mean. She summoned a few hundred bracelets, which leaped at the guards and lashed around their ankles, leaving them hanging upside down from the bottom of the catwalk, screaming like lame little girls.

The Son of Neptune, Chapter XXXII