WINGED ₁

10

ON THE HILL WERE TWO BULLS THE SIZE OF ELEPHANTS THAT BREATHED FIRE, which was just great.

As soon as Annabeth, Madeleine, Tyson, and Percy exited the taxi, the Gray Sisters peeled out, heading back to New York, where life was safer. They didn't even wait for their extra three-drachma payment. They just left them on the side of the road, Annabeth with nothing but her backpack and knife, Tyson and Percy still in their burned-up gym clothes, and Madeleine with her knives and blessedly vomit-free outfit.

"Oh, man," said Annabeth, looking at the battle raging on the hill.

What worried Madeleine most weren't the bulls themselves. Or the ten heroes in full battle armor who were getting their asses whooped. What worried Madeleine was that the bulls were ranging all over the hill, even around the back side of the pine tree. That shouldn't have been possible. The camp's magic boundaries didn't allow monsters to cross past Thalia's tree. But apparently, no one had told the bulls that.

One of the heroes shouted, "Border patrol, to me!" A girl's voice, gruff and vaguely familiar to Madeleine.

But border patrol? The camp didn't have a border patrol.

"It's Clarisse," Annabeth said. "Come on, we have to help her."

Normally, rushing to Clarisse's aid would not have been on Madeleine's to do list. Although she had never met the daughter of Ares, she was fully aware that Clarisse hated Percy's guts, and he hated hers with equal fervor. Considering that Percy had also humiliated her dad last summer in a swordfight, the Ares kids weren't very fond of Percy, and since Percy was one of Madeleine's best friends, that extended to her.

Still, Clarisse was in trouble. Her fellow warriors were scattering, running in panic as the bulls charged. The grass was burning in huge swathes around the pine tree. One hero screamed and waved his arms as he ran in circles, the horse-hair plume on his helmet blazing like a fiery Mohawk. Clarisse's own armor was charred. She was fighting with a broken spear shaft, the other end embedded uselessly in the metal joint of one bull's shoulder.

Percy uncapped his ballpoint pen. It shimmered, growing longer until he held the bronze sword Anaklusmos in his hands. "Tyson, stay here. I don't want you taking any more chances."

 "No!" Annabeth said. "We need him."

Percy stared at her. "He's mortal. He got lucky with the dodge balls but he can't―"

"Percy, do you know what those are up there? The Colchis bulls, made by Hephaestus himself. We can't fight them without Medea's Sunscreen SPF 50,000. We'll get burned to a crisp."

"Medea's what?"

Annabeth rummaged through her backpack and cursed. "I had a jar of tropical coconut scent sitting on my nightstand at home. Why didn't I bring it?"

"Okay," Madeleine interrupted. "Point is, the camp is under attack, and I'm not very excited to see what happens if the bulls get through the demigods. Which is going to happen very soon." Madeleine drew her knives. "You two figure it out, but I'm going in."

With that, she charged up the hill.

Clarisse was yelling at her patrol, trying to get them into phalanx formation. It was a good idea. The few who were listening lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, locking their shields to form an ox-hide-and-bronze-wall, their spears bristling over the top like porcupine quills.

Unfortunately, Clarisse could only muster six campers. The other four were still running around with their helmets on fire. Annabeth ran toward them, trying to help. She taunted one of the bulls into chasing her, then turned invisible, completely confusing the monster. Madeleine ran to intercept and slashed through the bull's thigh. It snarled and turned toward her, but the loss of its leg left it awkward and slow.