VXI| a trick that ends in death

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The Hephaestus cabin was out of Greek fire. The Apollo cabin and the Hunters were scrounging for arrows. Most of them had already ingested so much ambrosia and nectar we didn't dare take any more. 

They had  eighteen campers, fifteen Hunters, and half a dozen satyrs left in fighting shape. The rest had taken refuge on Olympus. The Party Ponies tried to form ranks, but they staggered and giggled and they all smelled like root beer.

The Texans were head-butting the Coloradoans. The Missouri branch was arguing with Illinois. The chances were pretty good the whole army would end up fighting each other rather than the enemy.

Chiron trotted up with Rachel on his back.  "Your friend here has some useful insights, Percy," he said. 

Rachel blushed. "Just some things I saw in my head." 

A drakon," Chiron said. "A Lydian drakon, to be exact. The oldest and most dangerous kind."

Percy stared at her. "How did you know that?"

"I'm not sure," Rachel admitted. "But this drakon has a particular fate. It will be killed by a child of Ares."

Annabeth crossed her arms. "How can you possibly know that?"

"I just saw it. I can't explain."

"Well, let's hope you're wrong," Percy said. "Because we're a little short on children of Ares.; we only have one..."

"And he is in no shape to fight," Theo inputted.

"What?" Annabeth asked.

"The spy," Percy told her. "Kronos said, We know they cannot beat this drakon. The spy has been keeping him updated. Kronos knows the Ares cabin isn't with us. He intentionally picked a monster we can't kill."

Thalia scowled. "If I ever catch your spy, he's going to be very sorry. Maybe we could send another messenger to camp—"

"I've already done it," Chiron said. "Blackjack is on his way. But if Silena wasn't able to convince Clarisse, I doubt Blackjack will be able—"

A roar shook the ground. It sounded very close. 

"Rachel," Percy said, "get inside the building.

"I want to stay." A shadow blotted out the sun. Across the street, the drakon slithered down the side of a skyscraper. It roared, and a thousand windows shattered. 

"On second thought," Rachel said in a small voice, "I'll be inside." 

There are dragons, and then there are drakons. Drakons are several millennia older than dragons, and much larger. They look like giant serpents. Most don't have wings. Most don't breathe fire (though some do). All are poisonous. All are immensely strong, with scales harder than titanium. Their eyes can paralyze you; not the turn-you-to-stone Medusa-type paralysis, but the oh~my~gods-that~big~snake~is~going~to~eat~me type of paralysis, which is just as bad. 

They have drakon-fighting classes at camp, but there is no way to prepare yourself for a two-hundred-foot-long serpent as thick as a school bus slithering down the side of a building, its yellow eyes like searchlights and its mouth full of razor-sharp teeth big enough to chew elephants.

Meanwhile, the enemy army advanced down Fifth Avenue. They had done their best to push cars out of the way to keep the mortals safe, but that just made it easier for their enemies to approach. The Party Ponies swished their tails nervously.

Chiron galloped up and down their ranks, shouting encouragement to stand tough and think about victory and root beer, but Theo figured any second they would panic and run.

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