The Blood of Olympus (The Heroes of Olympus #5)(102)

She wove through the crowd, jabbing her sword into dragon-scale feet at every opportunity and yelling, ‘RUN! RUN AWAY!’ to sow confusion.

‘NO! STOP HER!’ Porphyrion shouted. ‘KILL HER!’

A spear almost impaled her. Piper swerved and kept running. It’s just like capture the flag, she told herself. Only the enemy team is all thirty feet tall.

A huge sword sliced across her path. Compared to her sparring practice with Hazel, the strike was ridiculously slow. Piper leaped over the blade and zigzagged towards Annabeth, who was still kicking and writhing in Periboia’s grip. Piper had to free her friend.

Unfortunately, the giantess seemed to anticipate her plan.

‘I think not, demigod!’ Periboia yelled. ‘This one bleeds!’

The giantess raised her knife.

Piper screamed in charmspeak: ‘MISS!’

At the same time, Annabeth kicked up with her legs to make herself a smaller target.

Periboia’s knife passed beneath Annabeth’s legs and stabbed the giantess’s own palm.

‘OWWW!’

Periboia dropped Annabeth – alive, but not unscathed. The dagger had sliced a nasty gash across the back of her thigh. As Annabeth rolled away, her blood soaked into the earth.

The blood of Olympus, Piper thought with dread.

But she couldn’t do anything about that. She had to help Annabeth.

Piper lunged at the giantess. Her jagged blade suddenly felt ice cold in her hands. The surprised giantess glanced down as the sword of the Boread pierced her gut. Frost spread across her bronze breastplate.

Piper yanked out her sword. The giantess toppled backwards – steaming white and frozen solid. Periboia hit the ground with a thud.

‘My daughter!’ King Porphyrion levelled his spear and charged.

But Percy had other ideas.

Enceladus had dropped him … probably because the giant was busy staggering around with Piper’s knife embedded in his forehead, ichor streaming into his eyes.

Percy had no weapon – perhaps his sword had been confiscated or lost in the fighting – but he didn’t let that stop him. As the giant king ran towards Piper, Percy grabbed the tip of Porphyrion’s spear and forced it down into the ground. The giant’s own momentum lifted him off his feet in an unintentional pole-vault manoeuvre and he flipped over onto his back.

Meanwhile Annabeth dragged herself across the ground. Piper ran to her side. She stood over her friend, sweeping her blade back and forth to keep the giants at bay. Cold blue steam now wreathed her blade.

‘Who wants to be the next Popsicle?’ she yelled, channelling anger into her charmspeak. ‘Who wants to go back to Tartarus?’

That seemed to hit a nerve. The giants shuffled uneasily, glancing at the frozen body of Periboia.

And why shouldn’t Piper intimidate them? Aphrodite was the most ancient Olympian, born of the sea and the blood of Ouranos. She was older than Poseidon or Athena or even Zeus. And Piper was her daughter.

More than that, she was a McLean. Her father had come from nothing. Now he was known all over the world. The McLeans didn’t retreat. Like all Cherokee, they knew how to endure suffering, keep their pride and, when necessary, fight back. This was the time to fight back.

Forty feet away, Percy bent over the giant king, trying to yank a sword from the braids of his hair. But Porphyrion wasn’t as stunned as he let on.

‘Fools!’ Porphyrion backhanded Percy like a pesky fly. The son of Poseidon flew into a column with a sickening crunch.

Porphyrion rose. ‘These demigods cannot kill us! They do not have the help of the gods. Remember who you are!’

The giants closed in. A dozen spears were pointed at Piper’s chest.

Annabeth struggled to her feet. She retrieved Periboia’s hunting knife, but she could barely stand upright, much less fight. Each time a drop of her blood hit the ground it bubbled, turning from red to gold.

Percy tried to stand, but he was obviously dazed. He wouldn’t be able to defend himself.

Piper’s only choice was to keep the giants focused on her.

‘Come on, then!’ she yelled. ‘I’ll destroy you all myself if I have to!’

A metallic smell of storm filled the air. All the hairs on Piper’s arms stood up.

‘The thing is,’ said a voice from above, ‘you don’t have to.’

Piper’s heart could’ve floated out of her body. At the top of the nearest colonnade stood Jason, his sword gleaming gold in the sun. Frank stood at his side, his bow ready. Hazel sat astride Arion, who reared and whinnied in challenge.

With a deafening blast, a white-hot bolt arced from the sky, straight through Jason’s body as he leaped, wreathed in lightning, at the giant king.

XLIV

Piper

FOR THE NEXT THREE MINUTES, LIFE WAS GREAT.

So much happened at once that only an ADHD demigod could have kept track.

Jason fell on King Porphyrion with such force that the giant crumpled to his knees – blasted with lightning and stabbed in the neck with a golden gladius.

Frank unleashed a hail of arrows, driving back the giants nearest to Percy.

The Argo II rose above the ruins and all the ballistae and catapults fired simultaneously. Leo must have programmed the weapons with surgical precision. A wall of Greek fire roared upward all around the Parthenon. It didn’t touch the interior, but in a flash most of the smaller monsters around it were incinerated.