"Tell me you have some sort of power to bring out silver from the ground," Jason told Alex.
"Stay close," Alex warned. "They rarely attack a pack."
"That didn't work too well last time," Jason muttered.
"Their alpha hasn't arrived yet," I said. "They'll wait."
Two more wolves made their way in. I could hear Hermione whimpering by the other side of the Quidditch pitch, but she was still standing tall, ready to attack. I signed for her to go away, but she didn't listen.
The wolves parted, and the man stepped into the firelight. His hair was greasy and ragged, the color of fireplace soot, topped with a crown of what looked like finger bones. His robes were tattered fur—wolf, rabbit, raccoon, deer, and several others. The furs didn't look cured, and from the smell, they weren't very fresh. His frame was lithe and muscular, like a distance runner's. But the most horrible thing was his face. His thin pale skin was pulled tight over his skull. His teeth were sharpened like fangs. His eyes glowed bright red like his wolves'—and they fixed on Alex with absolute hatred.
"Lycaon," Alex greeted the man.
I couldn't tell if he was scowling or smiling. "Dea nihilo," he said, tilting his head, "nunc mortale. Alexandra."
"Non sunt hic," Alex growled at Lycaon. "Neque tu. Exite."
"Speak English!" Will hissed at Alex.
Lycaon laughed- or perhaps, he was snarling. I don't know. "We'll see who leaves first, goddess."
Annabeth snarled at the man, her dagger imploring to find Lycaon's neck.
The man snarled—perhaps a laugh, perhaps a challenge. "Oh, we've been waiting for you all across Europe, hoping we'd be the first to find you. Our king will reward me well when he finally comes to Earth. But for now- my pack is hungry."
The wolves snarled in the darkness.
"The king of wolves," I remarked, smirking. "An immortal, smelly, vicious mutt."
Lycaon growled. "I will tear you apart, Son of Poseidon!"
"Come on, Big Bad Wolf," I snarled back right at him. "What you gonna do? Huff and puff and blow my house down?"
Jason took a step forward. "You're not killing anyone, wolf man. Not without going through me."
"The son of Jupiter," Lycaon snarled. "We meet again. You shall be mine."
Lycaon howled loudly, and Ron was screaming behind us.
"Incoming!" Alex warned, throwing three silver knives at three wolves at the same time. They fell to the ground, whimpering.
She passed to each one of us a silver dagger. "Keep yourselves safe."
She slammed her trident to the ground, and it changed color, still glowing purple. "Light 'em up, Jason," she ordered. "Will, make sure the kids are okay, Nico," she was panting now, "you know what to do."
She turned around just in time to plunge her now silver trident into a werewolf. The wolf howled. "Get to work! Now!"
We scattered away from the center. Will ran to the end of the Quidditch pitch. Nico shadow travelled from one place to another, slicing through wolves with all but a small silver dagger. Jason brought out his gladius, and his form crackling, he sent out powerful bolts of lightning at Lycaon and his wolves.
Rain fell heavily from the skies. If there's one thing I can take advantage of, it's water. I smirked.
I willed the water into the wolves mouths, and choked them slowly, waiting for Alex to come with her silver trident and finish them off.
Annabeth was fighting off three wolves single-handedly, and to my surprise, she was besting them with relative ease.
Then a ripping sound cut through the wind—like a piece of tearing cardboard. A long stick sprouted from the neck of the nearest wolf next to me—the shaft of a silver arrow. The wolf writhed and fell, melting into a puddle of shadow. Will had come to my rescue.
I nodded. "Thanks, man."
"Let's get the rest," Will said, taking out another arrow, squinting through the rain to see.
"I can help," I said, smiling, bringing down a couple more wolves. "Ever heard of chokehold? This is Percy's special."
Some werewolves were singed, some were choking, some were a pool of shadow. We were gaining the upper hand.
The pack started to break in confusion.
Alex was battling Lycaon, moving so swiftly that I couldn't even see her attack, but Lycaon was just as fast. He caught her by the wrist. "You've become weak, goddess," he snarled.
Alex's face turned red with anger. "No, I haven't," she said, "I've only turned smarter." Her eyes glowed purple. And in a series of incredible moments, she headbutted Lycaon and freed herself from his hold, floating an inch above him in the air. "But perhaps you've lost all your talent to be cunning."
Her weapon was burning even though it was raining heavily, and she spun it in her hand, her form crackling with lightning.
She threw her trident through Lycaon's chest.
He let out a howl of pain. I put my fingers into my ears. Lycaon's eyes rolled back in his head and he dissolved into a pool of inky darkness.
"I don't think he'll be coming back for a while," Annabeth said, impressed.
"He'd better not," Jason whistled. "That was awesome."
Alex was panting. "What about the kids?"
I turned around. By the stands, I could see three heads in the firelight. I frowned. "Will, don't tell me you knocked them out."
"Well, two of them were already knocked out," Will said, blushing. "I just cursed-"
"DUCK!" Jason yelled.
A shot of bright red light almost brushed past my arm as I ducked.
The fires at the Quidditch Pitch grew taller. Annabeth brought out her wand and yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!"
The rain had stopped. Alex and I were the only ones who weren't wet.
A small thud sounded through the crackling noise of the fire burning. Alex brought her hands together, and the fire vanished, leaving the Quidditch pitch dry and intact.
We ran to the spot. A very pale Hermione Granger was lying on the field, her eyes wide with shock. To her side were Harry and Ron, both of them unconscious.
Jason sighed. "How'd they know?"
"One way to get information," Nico said, "is to ask."
"We don't have the liberty of doing that," I replied.
Alex sat down on her knees. "I'll try and figure it out."
She took Hermione's hand in hers and closed her eyes.
"What's she doing?" Will asked.
"Figuring it out?" I shrugged.
When she opened her eyes again a minute later, they were glowing purple. "Harry's got a map. It shows him where everyone is at a particular point of time. They figured we're here on it."
"I didn't know you could read minds," Jason mused as he searched Harry's pockets.
Alex took out her wand. "You never asked," she said. She took an ancient parchment from Jason and tapped her wand on it. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."
Ink appeared magically from the parchment. "Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs- Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present The Marauder's Map," I read. "You've got to be kidding me."
Alex smiled. "Tell me about it." She opened the map and pointed. "There we are."
I looked down at the map. Nine little dots were marked, each named respectively after the person who was standing there. Perseus Jackson, I read.
"They'll be able to keep an eye on us if we don't do something about it," Nico said.
"Then we'll do something about it," Will said. "We can burn down the map."
"Or," Alex said, "we could just enchant it."
Her palms were glowing green, and so were her eyes. She waved her hand at it. The map glitched for a moment before returning back to normal. She handed over the map to Annabeth. I leaned forward to look at it.
Perseus Jackson was missing from the Quidditch Pitch. Instead, at the bed marked number 17 on the boys' dormitory of Gryffindor Tower, was a tiny dot, labelled neatly, 'Perseus Jackson.'
"Now, as for these guys," Nico said, "let's hope the Mist works on them."
He snapped his fingers, and darkness clouded around us. "You saw nothing but an empty Quidditch pitch."
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