“I’ll carry you.” He scooped up the old woman.
She was lighter than he expected. Percy tried to ignore her sour breath and her calloused hands clinging to his neck. He made it across the first lane of traffic. A driver honked. Another yelled something that was lost in the wind. Most just swerved and looked irritated, as if they had to deal with a lot of ratty teenagers carrying old hippie women across the freeway here in Berkeley.
A shadow fell over him. Stheno called down gleefully, “Clever boy! Found a goddess to carry, did you?”
A goddess?
June cackled with delight, muttering, “Whoops!” as a car almost killed them.
Somewhere off to his left, Euryale screamed, “Get them! Two prizes are better than one!”
Percy bolted across the remaining lanes. Somehow he made it to the median alive. He saw the gorgons swooping down, cars swerving as the monsters passed overhead. He wondered what the mortals saw through the Mist—giant pelicans? Off-course hang gliders? The wolf Lupa had told him that mortal minds could believe just about anything—except the truth.

The Son of Neptune, Chapter II