madness and ecstasy // leo valdez

-my pronouns are cow/sheepdog/monster-

Leo scooped the last dregs of his cheerios into his mouth and squinted through the bright morning sun. They were docked at a busy wharf, the Argo II dramatically bigger than the fishing boats and yachts. On one side stretched a shipping channel. On the other spread the city of Venice— sun-bleached buildings in all the colours of Valentine candy hearts—red, white, ochre, pink, and orange.

He vividly remembered holding back Piper's hair as she puked up a kilogram's worth of candy hearts on the fourteenth of February, only four and a half months ago. A lot had changed since then, and Leo felt his chest tighten again.

The lions were a much-needed distraction, because they certainly were distracting. Everywhere there were statues of lions—on top of pedestals, over doorways, on the porticoes of the largest buildings. It must have been the city's mascot.

Where streets should have been, green canals etched their way through the neighbourhoods, each one jammed with motorboats and long thin wooden boats piled with racks of souvenirs stocked for the milling tourists. None of them were paying attention to the scenery though, however impressive the architecture of the- Leo stopped that thought.

They had gathered at the starboard rail with bowls of cereal and apples with the bruised parts cut off in their hands, to stare at the dozens of shaggy monsters milling through the crowds. Each monster was about the size of a cow, with a bowed back like a broken-down horse, matted grey fur, skinny legs, and black cloven hooves. The creatures' heads seemed much too heavy for their necks. Their long, anteater- like snouts drooped to the ground, reminding Leo of the David Attenborough documentary's Pollux always picked for movie night. Then they had to watch The jungle book because Jason cried when the animals died.

Leo watched as one of the creatures lumbered across the promenade, snuffling and licking the pavement with its long tongue, probably looking for dribbles of the ice-cream everyone was buying. The tourists parted around it, unconcerned. A few even petted it. Leo waited a moment, and then watched as the monster flickered into an old sheep dog for a moment, then back to normal. Well, the demigods normal.

Hazel held her apple core between two fingers and stood on her tiptoes to peer at the monsters. "What are they?"

Jason grunted. "The mortals think they're stray dogs."

"Or pets roaming around," Piper said through a mouth full of coco pops. Leo would have to find her stash; he was sick of wheat flavoured cheerio's. "My dad shot a film in Venice once. I remember him telling me there were dogs everywhere. Venetians love dogs."

There was a low rumbling sound, and she stretched her hand out to pat the top of Leopards head reassuringly. The fact that the cat, now leopard, was called Leopard, still confused Leo. Was he supposed to call it Leopard, or the leopard? He certainly wasn't going to refer to the giant carnivore as Leo, like Ginny instructed.

"But what are they?" Leo asked, repeating Hazel's question. "They look like...starving sheepdog cows."

"Muffin McLay like a bundle of hay," Frank whispered under his breath, and Leo didn't mention it. Instead, he put his bowl down on the edge of the control panel and stretched his arms out, feeling his stiff limbs groan back at him.

"Maybe they're harmless," Leo suggested, rubbing his tired eyes. "They're ignoring the mortals."

"Harmless!" Gleeson Hedge laughed. The satyr wore his usual gym shorts, sports shirt, and coach's whistle. His expression was as gruff as ever, but he still had one pink rubber band stuck in his hair from the prankster dwarfs in Bologna. Piper fiddled with her own two messy plaits as they turned to the coach. "Valdez, how many harmless monsters have we met? We should just aim the ballistae and see what happens!"