violent delights, percy jackson

chapter sixteen

VIOLENT DELIGHTS
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( sixteen! )

RUNNING FROM A DRAGON-LADY, believe it or not was a lot more difficult than Azalea originally anticipated. Sure, Kampê was more than some regular old monster-, literally the jailer of all the monster-styled Hephaestus children, but Azalea had foolishly thought ( since she was quite old . . . and large ) she might be a bit slow. This however, was not the case at all.

Once seeing the furious monster glaring up at them, the quest group with one unwanted Hundred-Handed One in tow, bolted down the catwalk in the other direction. Seeming to have a change of heart since the cell debacle, Briares happily followed behind. Azalea was actually surprised when he sprinted in front of them, waving his hands around in a panic to escape.

Behind them, Azalea tried ( and failed) to block out the sound of Kampê's leathery wings slapping through the air. She hissed and growled at them, like the monster she was, in her very-dead and very-old language. From the consistency and repetitive sounding of the grunts, Azalea suspected her vocabulary mainly consisted of blatant cursing towards them. No one of the group, even the most dense ( cough-PERCY JACKSON-cough ) needed a translation to know she was planning to kill them all, brutally.

Together they scrambled down the stairs, Azalea making it a point to skip a few when able, through a long and winding corridor, and past a guard's station. Though said guards -mortal or monster- were seen. Sooner than later they found themselves in another block of prison cells.

"Left!" Annabeth shouted in direction towards then. "I remember this from the tour!"

Having pulled in front of the curly haired blonde girl in the sprint to get away, Azalea couldn't help but glance behind her and shout back in question. "What tour?! Did you pick up a pamphlet?!"

Though Annabeth was never able to give an answer, as Kampê stole the show with a nightly roar that echoed through the corridors. They burned outside the gates, and Azalea was only marginally surprised to find them all in a prison yard. Granted, the said girl didn't exactly know what a prison yard was supposed to look like outside of the Hollywood adaptations, but it seemed pretty similar. Mainly because of the ringed security towers which didn't look to have any guards stationed in or around them, and the fences being rimmed at the top with nasty looking barbed wire.

After being inside for so long, the daylight almost blinded Azalea when her eyes got a full view of sunshine. Though she quickly recovered, which she chalked up to be more of a mind-over-matter occurrence rather than her dad deciding not to be a dick for once. Though where the guards were lacking in majorities, tourists were milling around the yards, taking the typical types of touristy pictures.

The wind whipped cold off the bay waters and in the south, San Francisco gleamed all white and beautiful with its array of buildings. Azalea could not help but also notice Mount Tamalpais in the north with huge black and grey storm clouds swirling. Zeus looked to be on the verge of having a temper-tantrum by the way the skies were all dreary and dark.

"It's even worse," Annabeth said, gazing to the north. As they all slowed their sprinting as they glanced around them, and tried to return their heart rates to normal. Grover was gasping at Azaleas side from the sudden sprint. "The storms have been bad all year, but that-"

"Keep moving," Briares wailed, not too far up ahead looking more terrified then he had in his cell. "She is behind us!"

Not about to disagree with the monster-man, Azalea quickens her job to follow behind him with the others close at her risk or streaming beside her. If the tourists took notice of their hurry they kept their thoughts to themselves and stayed out of their way. Together the group jogged to the far end of the yard-, as far from the cellblock as possible.