And there, shimmering in the Mist right next to us, was the last person I wanted to see: Mr. D, wearing his leopard-skin jogging suit and rummaging through the refrigerator. He looked up lazily. "Do you mind?"

Where's Chiron!" I shouted.

How rude." Mr. D took a swig from a jug of grape juice. "Is that how you say hello?"

Hello," I amended. "We're about to die! Where's Chiron?

Author: Rick Riordan