We Have a Nice, Orderly Free-for-All Yelling Whatever! at my girlfriend and throwing a potion at her are two great ways to make me angry. And when I get angry, liquids explode.
(That sounded more impressive in my head.)
Before Annabeth could react, I threw aside my plastic trident and willed the green liquid straight back at Phaedra, splattering her head to toe.
Phaedra shrieked. She collapsed and started to tremble.
“Phaedra!” cried her sister. “You paralyzed her!”
Annabeth looked stunned. I guess she hadn’t been expecting me to bend the laws of physics quite so early in the fight. I pulled my sword and advanced on Daedra.
“Grover!” I called over my shoulder. “Free the polecat!” Daedra hissed and grabbed a vial from the nearest table. “Don’t even think about it!” I snarled.
The problem was that to stop her, I’d have to slice her to dust. Maybe I could justify it, but I still didn’t like the idea. I’ll admit, it’s a lot easier to swing a sword at the Minotaur, or a seven-foot-tall bear demon howling for blood, than it is to stab a nymph in a nice outfit in her downtown boutique.
My hesitation gave Daedra time to uncork the vial. I got ready to blast the contents back at her, but she faked me out. She chugged them instead.
She shuddered, her body swelling and mutating until standing before me was
… you guessed it, a seven-foot-tall bear demon howling for blood. I really needed to stop manifesting my worst life.
Meanwhile, Annabeth grabbed some rubber tubing and started tying Phaedra’s wrists together. Grover chased Gale, who was still running around pursued by angry robot bees.
There was a lot going on in this laboratory.
Daedra lunged at me, but she was still clumsy in her new form. I danced out of the way.
“I don’t want to kill you!” I warned.
Daedra Bear roared. She overturned the bubbling cauldron, forcing me to scramble backward. I braced for her to charge, but she was a tricky teddy.
She lunged at Annabeth instead.
My heart did a jackknife. “Look out!”
Annabeth turned in time to see three tons of Daedra the Pooh hurtling her way. She leaped aside, but Daedra managed to backhand her, sending her crashing into the wall.
“No!” I ran toward them, splashing through the pool of steaming cauldron soup. I got to the bear before she could claw Annabeth and I slashed with Riptide—cutting clean through Daedra’s right paw.
The paw went flying. Daedra howled. Instead of blood, greenish-yellow tree sap trickled from the wound. Gross, yes. Violent, yes. But with Annabeth in danger, my qualms about attacking nymphs in their boutiques evaporated.
Daedra stumbled away, shrinking and shedding fur as she turned back to her regular form. I ran to Annabeth, who was already getting up.
“I’m fine!” She sounded more exasperated than hurt. “Go help Grover!” “Yes, please!” Grover shouted.
He’d managed to grab Gale and stick her under one arm, which meant the bee swarm was now after him. They were stinging him in all the worst
places while he tried unsuccessfully to swat them away with his panpipes. I suppose his nature music wouldn’t work on automated bees, which seemed like a design flaw. If we survived this, I’d have to write Hephaestus a heated letter.
I sprinted toward Grover. Halfway there, my back leg froze in place, nearly giving me whiplash. My left shoe, which had splashed through the puddle, was now stuck fast to the floor. A layer of orange foam bubbled and swelled around it, spreading across the stone tiles.
On the bright side: at least I’d kept my socks and shoes on, even though it was a fashion faux pas when dressed in plastic gladiator wear. Otherwise, I would’ve run barefoot through that steaming goo. On the less bright side: running through that steaming goo at all had turned out to be less than bright.
The orange foam was making its way up toward my ankle.
I know what you’re thinking: Just yank your foot out of your shoe.
Great idea, except as the goo expanded, it hardened into something like cement, locking my foot in the shoe. The foam had now reached the fabric of my sock.
“Percy, just step out of your shoe!” yelled Annabeth, who was now chasing a one-handed, half-bear Daedra around the room, trying to brain her with a
bronze pot.
“I know!” I yelled back.
Did she think I was dumb? Had I ever given her reason to—You know what? Forget I asked that.
“Help!” Grover said.
His lips and eyes were almost swollen shut from bronze-bee stings. Gale, still attached to that golden chain, had leaped out of his armpit and scurried away. She was now being outstandingly unhelpful by hiding in an air duct, watching the chaos from a safe distance. In her defense, it was probably the first time in two days she wasn’t being chased by bees or shuffled from one evil perfumery to another.
I yanked against the goo-cement. On my third try, I pulled my foot out of my sock with a loud POP and a sharp pain in my ankle. At least I was free.
If you’re keeping score, that means my Halloween costume was now down to a loincloth, an arm shield, one sock, and one shoe. If I couldn’t kill the
nymphs with my sword, maybe I could horrify them to death with my appearance.
I limped over to Grover—yeah, my ankle was definitely messed up— then started yelling and swatting at bees.
Meanwhile, Annabeth caught up with Daedra and whacked her over the head with the pot. Daedra stumbled off in a daze, tufts of bear fur falling off her face. If she could have found a potion that made cartoon birdies swirl around her head, she probably would’ve drunk it.
Unfortunately, Annabeth had been distracted from her earlier task of tying up Phaedra, who was starting to stir.
“Behind you!” I yelled.
I would have done more, but I was swarmed.
Pro tip: If you’re going to make Celestial bronze bees angry, it’s best not to do so in your underwear. For every bee I managed to smack with my sword, I got half a dozen stings. Each felt like a hot nail being hammered into my skin.
At least I gave Grover time to think. He grabbed the nearest Bunsen burner, rolled up a scroll, and lit a homemade torch.
From across the room, a newly unparalyzed Phaedra shrieked, “Stop! Those are priceless recipes!”
Annabeth punched her in the mouth with the hilt of her dagger—a scene that was also priceless.
Grover waved his torch, driving off the bees with smoke. I kept swatting until the last bronze butt-biter flew into the wall with a satisfying crunch.
I turned to Grover, who was gasping and covered in welts. “You okay?” I asked.
Before he could answer, from across the room came a triumphant “Ha-HA!”
Annabeth had been grappling with Phaedra, who was still acting pretty feisty despite getting bashed in the mouth. The cry had come from Daedra, now
fully naiad again, minus one hand, and only partially concussed, I guessed. She threw herself into the fray, jumping on Annabeth’s back.
Annabeth staggered.
We limped over to help, but Phaedra was faster. She pulled another potion out of her pocket—in a mother-of-pearl flask that looked expensive enough to be deadly.
Annabeth managed to shake off Daedra.
Phaedra chugged her potion and yelled, “BEAST BREATH!”
I didn’t know villains actually yelled the names of their special attacks in real life. Maybe the twins had been playing too much Mortal Kombat.
Grover and I got to Annabeth’s side just as Phaedra opened her mouth and spewed a cloud of white gas at us.
