𝓟𝓻𝓪𝓮𝓵𝓲𝓪 - (𝓟.𝓙𝓪𝓬𝓴𝓼𝓸𝓷)

01.

vol i
➵ chapter one ➵

As Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase exit the Grey Sisters taxi, their gazes immediately fall on the carnage occurring—a battle raging on Half-Blood Hill.
The rampaging bronze bulls aren't the most worrisome factor; no, it's that they're sweeping all over the hill, even around the back side of the pine tree. That shouldn't have been possible. The camp's magic boundaries aren't supposed to allow monsters to cross past Thalia's tree.

They watch on as Clarisse La Rue shouts over the field, trying to bring order, her fellow warriors scattering, running in panic as the great monsters charge. The grass is burning in huge swatches around the pine tree, with the daughter of Ares' own armour charred. She fights with a broken spear shaft, the other end embedded uselessly in the metal joint of one bull's shoulder.

The son of Poseidon uncaps his ballpoint pen, turning to his companion. "Tyson, stay here. I don't want you taking anymore chances."
"No!" Annabeth said. "We need him."
"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 burnt to a crisp."

Annabeth quickly scans the hill, suddenly stilling before a wide grin breaks out on her face. "But she won't."
Percy turns to see what she's looking at and spots a figure moving inhumanly fast, a warm glow following them as they run, the bulls chasing furiously after them.
"She's back." Annabeth utters softly, her eyes gleaming elated at the new arrival. She gives one last nod to Percy before rushing after the person.

Raising his sword, he follows. "Tyson, stay back. I'm going in." Running up the hill towards Clarisse, he watches as she yells at her patrol, trying to get them into phalanx formation. The few who are listening line 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, only six campers are in the formation; the other four are running around with their helmets on fire.

Annabeth runs towards them, trying to help. She taunts one of the bulls into chasing her, then turns invisible, completely confusing the monster. The other bull charges Clarisse's line.

It's deadly fast for something so large. It's metal hide gleams in the sun. It has fist-sized rubies for eyes and horns of polished silver. When it opens its hinged mouth, a column of white-hot flame blasts out.
"Hold the line!" Clarisse orders her warriors.

At that moment, the other bull loses interest in finding Annabeth. It turns, wheeling around behind Clarisse on her unprotected side.
"Behind you!" Percy yells. "Look out!"

As if out of thin air, a figure suddenly jumps onto Bull Number One, a bronze sword raised, and plunges it into the metal neck of the monster. Still clinging on, with her dark hair waving through the air, the girl continuously stabs.

Wide-eyed Percy watches as the bull releases a firestorm. He can't help but shout out at the stranger. Baffled, he watches on as the blast surrounds her, convinced she's just been turned into a column of ash.
But suddenly the beast begins to stagger, falling onto its back legs, and the girl emerges completely unscathed, rushing off to Annabeth.

The commotion has caused the phalanx to break, fiery breath blasting outwards from the dying beast, causing the shields to melt and the heroes to run as the other bull closed in on Clarisse for the kill.