TWENTY, fireball
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WHEN ASTER SAW ANNABETH and Clarisse working together, she knew things had gone completely to the wayside. The two of them never saw eye to eye, but they both directed soldiers better than any army general.
There were two bulls causing havoc on the top of the hill. But they weren't just regular bulls—they were bronze ones the size of elephants. They looked like something worthy of Hephaestus himself. Not even Charles Beckendorf could have pulled that creation off. Their size wasn't enough; naturally they had to breathe fire, too.
As soon as Aster, Percy, and Tyson exited the taxi, the Gray Sisters peeled out, heading back to New York, where life was safer. They didn't even wait for their extra three-drachma payment. They just left them on the side of the road, Aster with nothing but her backpack and knives, Tyson and Percy still in their burned-up tie-dyed gym clothes.
"Oh shit," Aster cursed under her breath, looking at the battle raging on the hill.
What worried her most weren't the bulls themselves. Or the ten heroes in full battle armor who were getting their bronze-plated asses whooped. What worried her was that the bulls were ranging all over the hill, even around the back side of the pine tree. That shouldn't have been possible. The camp's magic boundaries didn't allow monsters to cross past Thalia's tree. But the metal bulls were doing it anyway.
Clarisse shouted, "Border patrol, to me!"
Border patrol? The camp didn't have a border patrol.
"It's Clarisse and Annabeth," Aster said. "Come on, we have to help them!"
Percy stood there for a second, unmoving. He looked like he was weighing his options, and it may have been well warranted. Percy and Clarisse had never gotten along, ever since she tried to shove his head in a toilet on his first day at camp. And neither of them were on good terms with her father, Ares. So, naturally, all of his children hated them now. Clarisse was the bully of the camp, and Aster normally wouldn't have rushed to her aid.
But now, her and Annabeth were in trouble. Their fellow warriors were scattering, running in panic as the bulls charged. Clarisse and Annabeth seemed to be the only ones with their heads straight on their shoulders. The grass was burning in huge swathes around the pine tree. One hero screamed and waved his arms as he ran in circles, the horsehair plume on his helmet blazing like a fiery Mohawk. Clarisse's own armor was charred. She was fighting with a broken spear shaft, the other end embedded uselessly in the metal joint of one bull's shoulder. Annabeth stood back from a distance, her knife grasped tightly in her fist, her armor slightly askew. She shouted warnings to Clarisse as the bull tried to gain the upper hand on the girl.
Aster snapped her fingers in Percy's face. "Come on, Seaweed Brain! We don't have all day!"
Percy shook his head, then he uncapped his ballpoint pen. It shimmered, growing longer and heavier until he held the bronze sword, Anaklusmos—or Riptide.
"Tyson, stay here," he said, his sea green eyes blazing on the horizon. "I don't want you taking any more chances."
Aster's eyes widened slightly. Tyson was a cyclops. How Percy hadn't realized that after the whole cannibal incident, she had no idea. Tyson was immune to fire. Immune to fire. They were fighting fire-breathing bulls.
Aster was starting to become convinced that his head was full of seaweed.
"No!" she said. "We need him."
Percy whipped his head around at her. "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 burned to a crisp."
"Medea's what?"
Aster rummaged through her backpack and let out a string of curses that would get her scolded by her father. "I had a jar of tropical coconut scent sitting on my night-stand at home. Why didn't I bring it?"
"Look, I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm not going to let Tyson get fried."
Aster nearly growled. "Percy–"
"Tyson, stay back." Percy ignored her, raising his sword. "I'm going in."
Tyson tried to protest, but Percy was already running up the hill toward Clarisse, who was yelling at her patrol, trying to get them into phalanx formation. It was a good idea. The few who were listening lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, locking their shields to form an ox-hide–and-bronze wall, their spears bristling over the top like porcupine quills. Aster cursed again and ran after him, telling Tyson to follow her, but he stayed in his place. She didn't have time to convince him.
Unfortunately, Clarisse could only muster seven campers, a;ong with Annabeth. The other four were still running around with their helmets on fire. Aster ran towards Annabeth, but one of the bulls interrupted her. Annabeth taunted one of the bulls into chasing her, then turned invisible, completely confusing the monster. The other bull charged Clarisse's line.
Percy was halfway up the hill—not close enough to help. Clarisse hadn't even seen them yet.
The bull moved deadly fast for something so big. Its metal hide gleamed in the sun. It had fist-sized rubies for eyes, and horns of polished silver. When it opened its hinged mouth, a column of white-hot flame blasted out. Aster ducked and rolled to avoid it.
"Hold the line!" Clarisse ordered her warriors.
Above all else, Clarisse was brave. She was a big girl with cruel eyes like her father's. She looked like she was born to wear Greek battle armor, but Aster didn't know how even she could stand against that bull's charge.
Unfortunately, at that moment, the other bull lost interest in finding Annabeth. It turned, wheeling around behind Clarisse on her unprotected side. Aster tried to get there, but she was too slow getting up.
"Behind you!" Percy yelled. "Look out!"
He really shouldn't have said anything, because all he did was startle her. Bull Number One crashed into her shield, and the phalanx broke. Clarisse went flying backward and landed in a smoldering patch of grass. The bull charged past her, but not before blasting the other heroes with its fiery breath. Their shields melted right off their arms. They dropped their weapons and ran as Bull Number Two closed in on Clarisse for the kill.
Percy lunged forward and grabbed Clarisse by the straps of her armor. He dragged her out of the way just as Bull Number Two freight-trained past. He gave it a good swipe with Riptide and cut a huge gash in its flank, but the monster just creaked and groaned and kept on going.
Aster surged forwards towards Bull Number One, throwing a few knives into the cracks of its armor in hopes it would jam the joints. It did nothing. All it seemed to do was make the bull angry. It turned and made a beeline for Aster, and she could hear Percy and Clarisse starting to argue. But she couldn't worry about that now. She just had to avoid the angry machine. She dove out of the way just in time, and though it hadn't touched her, she could feel the heat of its metal skin. Its body temperature could've microwaved a frozen burrito. She could feel her earrings refill in her piercings, meaning her knives hadn't done any damage. Her mind was moving at a mile a minute, trying to figure out how they would beat these bulls that had gone haywire if none of their calvary even made a dent. Unfortunately, she came up empty.
Aster was facing off with the bull, and she could see Percy depositing Clarisse in a heap next to Thalia's pine tree and hurry towards her. They were on the inside slope of the hill now, the valley of Camp Half-Blood directly below them—the cabins, the training facilities, the Big House—all of it at risk if these bulls got past them. She thought back to her dream from last summer, and how the terrifying voice had told her he would burn the camp to the ground. Somehow, Aster knew this isn't what he meant, but she knew he would enjoy it if he could see this. She could hear Annabeth shouting orders at the other heroes in the distance, but they didn't register. All she could see were the burning red eyes of the bull. Just then, Percy was at her side, his sword pointed towards the stationary bull. Aster had her twin daggers out.
"Together?" Percy said, looking at her. He'd grown an inch or two, and they weren't the same height anymore. She resented that.
Aster nodded. "Together."
Bull Number One ran a wide arc, making its way back toward them. As it passed the middle of the hill, where the invisible boundary line should've kept it out, it slowed down a little, as if it were struggling against a strong wind; but then it broke through and kept coming. That broke a part of Aster's heart. Bull Number Two turned to face Aster and Percy, fire sputtering from the gash Percy had cut in its side. Aster couldn't tell if it felt any pain, but its ruby eyes seemed to glare at them like he'd just made things personal.
With the two of them they may be able to fend off the bulls, but they were coming at them fast. Percy looked fatigued already, and Aster felt tired as well. She realized how long it had been since she had trained hard, since she had been at home.
Percy lunged but Bull Number Two blew flames at him, Aster covering his back. He rolled aside as the air turned to pure heat, and Aster dropped and rolled in the other direction. All the oxygen was sucked out of her lungs. Percy's foot caught on a tree root, and Aster cursed herself for not keeping the ground clear. He cried out in pain, but still managed to slash with his sword and lop off part of the monster's snout. It galloped away, wild and disoriented. Aster felt grateful, until Percy tried to stand, and his left leg buckled underneath him. His ankle was probably sprained, maybe broken. Aster cursed herself again, telling all the tree roots to pull back from the demigods, and to try to stop the bulls when they could.
Bull Number One charged straight toward him. No way could he crawl out of its path. Aster was too far away to do any good, and she didn't have a sword like his to do what he did with the other bull. She looked at the other side of the hill to see Tyson sprinting towards them. As much as it put a dagger in her heart, she couldn't lose Percy—not like this.
Aster shouted: "Tyson, help him!"
Tyson was near the crest of the hill, and he was struggling against the barrier. "Can't—get—through!" he wailed. Aster knew what she had to do.
"I, Aster Reed, give you permission to enter camp!"
Percy looked at her like she was crazy. Thunder shook the hillside. Tyson barreled towards Percy, yelling: "Percy needs help!"
Aster got to her feet and stayed out of his way, but got close enough to assist if need be. Tyson dove between Percy and the bull just as it unleashed a nuclear firestorm.
"Tyson!" he yelled.
The blast swirled around him like a red tornado. Aster could only see the black silhouette of his body. She let out a nervous breath, hoping she hadn't been wrong about him. Little roots and vines grabbed at her arms, trying to shield her from the fire. Aster pushed them off of her.
When the fire died, Tyson was still standing there, completely unharmed. Not even his grungy clothes were scorched. Aster almost smiled. The bull seemed to be incredibly confused, because before it could unleash a second blast, Tyson balled his fists and slammed them into the bull's face. "BAD COW!"
His fists made a crater where the bronze bull's snout used to be. Two small columns of flame shot out of its ears. Tyson hit it again, and the bronze crumpled under his hands like aluminum foil. The bull's face now looked like a sock puppet pulled inside out.
"Down!" Tyson yelled.
The bull staggered and fell on its back. Its legs moved feebly in the air, steam coming out of its ruined head in odd places.
Aster sprinted over to Percy to check on him. As she ran she retrieved some nectar from her pack and gave it to him to drink, and some color returned to his face. He smelled like burning hair, but he was alive. Aster was more relieved than she thought she'd be.
"The other bull?" he asked.
Aster pointed down the hill. Clarisse had taken care of Bad Cow Number Two. She'd impaled it through the back leg with a celestial bronze spear. Now, with its snout half gone and a huge gash in its side, it was trying to run in slow motion, going in circles like some kind of merry-go-round animal.
Annabeth appeared next to them. "Are you guys okay?" Aster nodded. "Good. Then what were you thinking? Charging in like that! You could have died! "
Aster smiled and pulled Annabeth into a tight hug. "I missed you too." Annabeth didn't hesitate squeezing her back tight.
When she pulled away, she saw Clarisse marching towards them, and she was not very happy. A strand of her stringy brown hair was smoldering, but she didn't seem to notice. "You—ruin—everything!" she yelled at Percy. "I had it under control!"
Percy was too stunned to answer. Aster glared at her and grumbled, "Good to see you too, Clarisse."
"Argh!" Clarisse screamed. "Don't ever, EVER try saving me again!"
"Clarisse," Annabeth said, "you've got wounded campers."
That sobered her up. Even Clarisse cared about the soldiers under her command.
"I'll be back," she growled, then trudged off to assess the damage.
Percy stared at Tyson. "You didn't die."
Tyson looked down like he was embarrassed. "I am sorry. Came to help. Disobeyed you."
"It's my fault," Aster said. "There was no choice. I had to let Tyson cross the boundary line to save you. Otherwise, you would've... you would've died."
"Let him cross the boundary line?'" Percy asked, his eyebrows knit together. "But–"
"Percy," she said, "have you ever looked at Tyson closely? I mean... in the face. Ignore the Mist, and really look at him."
Percy looked at Tyson straight in the face, hesitantly at first. Aster swore she saw the exact moment the Mist shifted and showed him who Tyson really was. It was also the first time Annabeth had gotten a first glance at the cyclops, and she turned to Aster with wide eyes. Aster just nodded glumly, and Annabeth swallowed hard.
"Tyson," Percy stammered. "You're a..."
"Cyclops," Annabeth offered, quietly. "A baby, based on the looks of him. Probably why he couldn't get past the boundary line as easily as the bulls. He's not as grown up as them."
"Tyson must be one of the homeless orphans," Aster added.
"One of the what?"
"They're in almost all the big cities," Annabeth said distastefully. "They're... mistakes, Percy. Children of nature spirits and gods... Well, one god in particular, usually... and they don't always come out right. No one wants them. They get tossed aside. They grow up wild on the streets."
Aster continued, her eyes falling to her lap. "I don't know how this one found you, but he obviously likes you. We should take him to Chiron, let him decide what to do."
"But the fire. How–"
"He's a Cyclops." Aster paused, and she remembered the mansion. Running through the haunted hallways, her hand clasped with Annabeth's, following the voices of her friends that weren't theirs. She remembered the life draining from Thalia's eyes. "They work the forges of the gods. They have to be immune to fire. That's what I was trying to tell you. That's why we needed him."
Aster looked around, really assessing the damage—it was bad. The whole side of the hill was burning. Wounded heroes needed attention. And there were still two banged-up bronze bulls to dispose of, which Aster didn't figure would fit in their normal recycling bins.
Clarisse came back over and wiped the soot off her forehead. "Jackson, if you can stand, get up. We need to carry the wounded back to the Big House, let Tantalus know what's happened."
Aster furrowed her eyebrows. Who?
"Tantalus?" he asked.
"The activities director," Clarisse said impatiently.
Aster and Percy exchanged a glance. "Chiron is the activities director," Aster said. "Where's Argus? He's head of security. He should be here."
Clarisse made a sour face. "Argus got fired. You two have been gone too long. Things are changing." Aster looked at Annabeth for confirmation, who's gray eyes shone with sadness as she nodded. Chiron was gone? He had been a father figure to the both of them for years; he had practically raised them, trained them to be the heroes they were today.
"But Chiron... he's trained kids to fight monsters for over three thousand years," Percy said. "He can't just be gone. What happened?"
"That happened," Clarisse snapped.
She pointed to Thalia's tree.
Aster's hand flew over her mouth. She knew the story all too well—she had lived it; six years ago, Grover, Aster, Annabeth, Thalia and Luke had come to Camp Half-Blood chased by an army of monsters. When they got cornered on top of this hill, Thalia, a daughter of Zeus, had made her last stand here to give them time to reach safety. As she was dying, her father, Zeus, took pity on her and changed her into a pine tree. Her spirit had reinforced the magic borders of the camp, protecting it from monsters. The pine had been here ever since, strong and healthy. It protected all the demigods who walked through the camp.
But now, its needles were yellow. A huge pile of dead ones littered the base of the tree. In the center of the trunk, three feet from the ground, was a puncture mark the size of a bullet hole, oozing green sap.
It made Aster sick to look at it. Thalia's sacrifice, her last stand, was being destroyed, slowly and painfully. It was just another dagger to the heart. Now she understood why the camp was in danger. The magical borders were failing because Thalia's tree was dying.
Someone had poisoned it. And Aster knew exactly who to blame.