Annabeth Chase and the Lightning Thief

Chapter 37 - Ares gets his comeupins

I'd seen Percy fight before, but never like this.

As Ares cleaved down, Percy vaulted over the top of him, slashing back at him. Ares managed to deflect the blow though, surprising me with such a display of speed in such a big and ugly man.

"Not bad, not bad," he said, slashing again.

Percy had to jump out of the water to dodge the strike and Ares managed to keep him away from it, preventing him from returning to his strength. I felt helpless as I stood and watched them, feeling more nervous watching than I would have actually fighting. I couldn't stand watching a friend in danger and not being able to help. It was worse knowing that there was nothing I could do.

Sirens suddenly filled the air and I spun around to see several police cars roar up, skidding to a stop along the shoreline boulevard. Officers were scrambling out, slamming doors behind them, but they remained about the beach, watching the fight with awe.

Some mortal must have alerted them. I couldn't believe that they'd wasted time on this when there was so much damage done by the earthquake.

When I turned back to the fight, I was in time to see Percy disarmed and kicked in the chest, sent sprawling into a sand dune. He looked stunned, struggling to breathe. My heart went out to him, but I had to get him up.

"Percy!" I yelled. "Cops!"

He looked dizzily around. It didn't look like he'd be able to get up, much less fight.

The police were getting more active, scrambling around as if to find the best vantage point.

"There, officer!" a mortal yelled. "See?"

"Looks like that kid on TV . . . " an officer said. "What the heck . . ."

"That guy's armed," another yelled. "Call for backup."

Ares didn't seem fazed by the audience. He slashed at Percy and I felt that the son of Poseidon was gone for sure. But he'd recovered faster than I thought, rolling to the side and scooping up his sword in one smooth move. He went to strike back at Ares, but the god deflected it with ease.

"Admit it, kid," he said. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you."

Percy backed off into the surf, looking desperate.

My attention was split, partly on Percy and partly on the crowd appearing around us. The cops were keeping everyone back for now, but how long until they lost control? People could get hurt.

More and more like cars were racing in, more sirens and more people yelling. It was hectic, especially with Percy fighting for his life barely metres away. And yet, through all that, I could still feel that horribly familiar presence, those eyes watching us. I looked around everywhere, but I couldn't find them. Where could they be?

Then I spotted them. Three hideous hags circling above us. The Furies. Like vultures waiting to attack, they followed the battle attentively, but didn't look like they wanted to intervene. What were they up to?

I didn't have time to wonder much as I saw Ares slash forward, slicing open Percy's forearm. He gasped, scrambling further into the sea. The cut would be healed in moments, but that wouldn't do him any good if he died in the meantime.

"Drop the guns!" a police officer's voice suddenly boomed out on a megaphone. "Set them on the ground! Now!"

I frowned, looking at the swords that Ares and Percy helped. Guns? Was that how the Mist was working? I knew it covered a lot of the mess monsters and demigods made, but I didn't see how it could morph swords into guns.