𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐬'𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 • 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘺 𝘫𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘴𝘰𝘯

Colchis bulls

Y/n Pov:

As soon as we 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 us on the side of the road, Annabeth with nothing but her backpack and knife, Grayson and I were still in our school uniform, and Tyson and Percy in their burned-up tie-dyed gym clothes. 

"Oh, man," said Annabeth, looking at the battle raging on the hill. 

What worried me most wasn't the bulls themselves. Or the ten heroes in full battle armour who were getting their bronze-plated booties whooped. What worried me was that the bulls were ranging all over the hill, even around the backside 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. 

One hero shouted, "Border patrol, to me!" A girl's voice—gruff and familiar. 

"It's Clarisse," Annabeth said. "Come on, we have to help her." 

Normally, rushing to Clarisse's aid would not have been high on my "to do" list. She was one of the biggest bullies at camp. Still, she was in trouble. Her fellow warriors were scattered, running in panic as the bulls charged. 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 armour was charred. She was fighting with a broken spear shaft, the other end embedded uselessly in the metal joint of one bull's shoulder.

"Toxótis," I called, and my silver bow and arrow appeared.

 "Tyson, stay here. I don't want you taking any more chances," said Percy.

"No!" I said. "We need him." 

Percy stared at me. "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?" 

Annabeth rummaged through her backpack and cursed. "I had a jar of tropical coconut scent sitting on my night-stand at home. Why didn't I bring it?" 

"Look," said Percy. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I'm not going to let Tyson get fried." 

"Percy—" 

"Tyson, stay back." Percy raised 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. 

Unfortunately, Clarisse could only muster six campers. The other four were still running around with their helmets on fire. Annabeth, Grayson and I ran toward them, trying to help. Annabeth taunted one of the bulls into chasing her, then turned invisible, completely confusing the monster. I tried to distract the bull by shooting arrows at it, and Grayson grabbed the biggest rocks he could find and threw them at the bull's snout. The other bull charged Clarisse's line. 

Percy was halfway up the hill—not close enough to help. Clarisse hadn't even seen him 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.