Blood Of Poseidon

VI. The Chariot Race

The morning of the race dawned upon Camp Half-Blood with a sweltering heat that hung heavy in the air, accompanied by a thick fog that cloaked the grounds like a shroud. Millions of pigeons, their plumage a mix of fat gray and white, perched ominously in the surrounding trees, their metallic screeches cutting through the humid atmosphere like the sound of submarine radar. In the grassy field between the archery range and the woods, the racetrack awaited the imminent showdown. Constructed by the skilled hands of Hephaestus's cabin using bronze bulls, the oval track promised both excitement and danger. Rows of stone steps provided seating for the spectators, among them Tantalus, the satyrs, dryads, and campers who opted out of the race. Notably absent was Mr. D, known for his late mornings. Tantalus, with a platter of pastries in hand, addressed the assembling teams, his right hand chasing a chocolate eclair across the judge's table. "You all know the rules. A quarter-mile track. Twice around to win. Two horses per chariot. Each team will consist of a driver and a fighter. Weapons are allowed. Dirty tricks are expected. But try not to kill anybody!" Tantalus smiled at them like they were all naughty children. "Any killing will result in harsh punishment. No s'mores at the campfire for a week! Now ready your chariots!" 

Beckendorf led the Hephaestus team onto the track. They had a sweet ride made of bronze and iron-even the horses, which were magical automatons like the Colchis bulls. Percy had no doubt that their chariot had all kinds of mechanical traps and more fancy options than a fully loadedMaserati. The Ares chariot was bloodred, and pulled by two grisly horse skeletons. Clarisse climbed aboard with a batch of javelins, spiked balls, caltrops, and a bunch of other nasty toys. Apollo's chariot was trim and graceful and completely gold, pulled by two beautiful palominos. Their fighter was armed with a bow, though he had promised not to shoot regular pointed arrows at the opposing drivers. Hermes's chariot was green and kind of old-looking, as if it hadn't been out of the garage in years. It didn't look like anything special, but it was manned by the Stoll brothers, Percy shuddered at thought of what dirty tricks they had schemed up. With two chariots left, one driven by Annabeth and the other by Percy himself, tension simmered beneath the surface as the competitors prepared for the race. Before the race commenced, Percy attempted to share his troubling dream with Annabeth, hoping to enlist her help. However, her suspicion and reluctance to trust him dampened his resolve. "You're trying to distract me," Annabeth accused, her demeanor guarded. "I'm not making this up, Annabeth," "Oh, right! Like Grover would just happen to stumble across the one thing that could save the camp." She rolled her eyes. "Go back to your chariot, Percy." She hesitated. I could tell she was trying to decide whether or not to trust me. Despite our occasional fights, we'd been through a lot together. And I knew she would never want anything bad to happen to Grover. "Percy, an empathy link is so hard to do. I mean, it's more likely you really were dreaming." "The Oracle," I said. "We could consult the Oracle." Annabeth frowned. Their conversation halted abruptly as the conch horn sounded, signaling the start of the race. With a promise to continue their discussion later, Annabeth turned her attention back to the impending competition, leaving Percy to wrestle with his concerns alone.

As Percy made his way back to his chariot, the sight of the increasingly agitated pigeons in the surrounding trees filled him with unease. Despite his attempts to reassure them, Tyson struggled to control their horses, their mistrust evident in their protests. "He's a monster, lord!" they exclaimed, their fear palpable. "He's a son of Poseidon, just like me," Percy reassured them. "No!" they insisted." Monster! Horse-eater! Not trusted!" "I'll give you sugar cubes at the end of the race," Percy said. "Sugar cubes?" "Very big sugar cubes. And apples. Did I mention the apples?" Finally persuaded, the horses allowed themselves to be harnessed, and Percy took the reins, guiding the chariot to the starting line. With Tyson by his side, armed with a ten-foot pole to fend off any threats, Percy prepared for the race ahead.