The Winds Of Heaven (Annabeth Chase x Male Reader)

19. In The Face Of The Devil

Being a demigod had taken Y/N on several forced marches. He thought he was in good shape. But climbing a mountain when the earth is trying to swallow your feet is like jogging on a flypaper treadmill.

In no time, he'd rolled up the sleeves of his linen shirt. He wished Aphrodite had given him walking shorts and some more comfortable shoes, but he was grateful for the sunglasses that kept the sun out of his eyes.

Finally they crouched behind a wall of rock. Piper had to pull Coach Hedge down.

"I don't want to get my outfit dirty!" Hedge complained.

"Shh!" Piper said.

Reluctantly, the satyr knelt.

Just over the ridge where they were hiding, in the shadow of the mountain's final crest, was a forested depression about the size of a football field, where the giant Enceladus had set up camp.

Trees had been cut down to make a towering purple bonfire. The outer rim of the clearing was littered with extra logs and construction equipment—an earthmover; a big crane thing with rotating blades at the end like an electric shaver; and a long metal column with an axe blade, like a sideways guillotine.

Why a giant needed construction equipment, Y/N wasn't sure. He didn't see how the creature in front of him could even fit in the driver's seat. The giant Enceladus was so large and so horrible that Y/N thought he looked a little like Typhon.

To start with, Enceladus was thirty feet tall—easily as tall as the treetops. Y/N was sure the giant could've seen them behind their ridge, but he seemed intent on the weird purple bonfire, circling it and chanting under his breath. From the waist up, the giant appeared humanoid, his muscular chest clad in bronze armor, decorated with flame designs. His arms were completely ripped. Each of his biceps was bigger than Y/N. His skin was bronze but sooty with ash. His face was crudely shaped, like a half-finished clay figure, but his eyes glowed white, and his hair was matted in shaggy dreadlocks down to his shoulders, braided with bones.

From the waist down, he was even more terrifying. His legs were scaly green, with claws instead of feet—like the forelegs of a dragon. In his hand, Enceladus held a spear the size of a flagpole. Every so often he dipped its tip in the fire, turning the metal molten red.

"Okay," Coach Hedge whispered. "Here's the plan—"

Annabeth elbowed him. "You're not charging him alone!"

"Aw, c'mon."

Piper choked back a sob. "Look."

Just visible on the other side of the bonfire was a man tied to a post. His head slumped as if he was unconscious, so Y/N couldn't make out his face, but Piper didn't seem to have any doubts.

"Dad," she said.

Y/N swallowed. He wished this were a Tristan McLean movie. Then Piper's dad would be faking unconsciousness. He'd untie his bonds and knock out the giant with some cleverly hidden anti-giant gas. Heroic music would start to play, and Tristan McLean would make his amazing escape, running away in slow motion while the mountainside exploded behind him.

But this wasn't a movie. Tristan McLean was half dead and about to be eaten. The only people who could stop it—five fashionably dressed teenage demigods and two goats.

"There's seven of us," Hedge whispered urgently. "And only one of him."

"Did you miss the fact that he's thirty feet tall?" Leo asked.

"Okay," Hedge said. "So one group distracts him. Another sneaks around and frees Piper's dad."

"For once, Coach Hedge is right," Y/N sighed. "A distraction is our best chance."