“You think you can protect three half-bloods at once, old man?” Dylan laughed. “Good luck.” Dylan pointed at Leo, and a funnel cloud materialized around him. Leo flew off the skywalk like he’d been tossed. Somehow he managed to twist in midair, and slammed sideways into the canyon wall.

He skidded, clawing furiously for any handhold. Finally he grabbed a thin ledge about fifty feet below the skywalk and hung there by his fingertips.

“Help!” he yelled up at them. “Rope, please? Bungee cord? Something?”

The Lost Hero, Chapter II