Chapter 22

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"Where are you going?" Clarisse asked, blocking the path as Percy attempted to chase the flag-grabber.

"Get out of my way," Percy ordered. 

But when Percy tried to push past her, Clarisse punched him in the stomach. "I'm not done with you, punk."

Percy kicked up dirt as he stumbled back. He slammed into a tree. The blow, coupled with the crash, knocked out every ounce of air from his body. Maimer flew out of his hand and sailed across the clearing . . . 

Right into Clarisse's hand.

I'm going to die, Percy realized as Clarisse approached with Maimer sparking threateningly.

From the corner of his eye, he detected a movement just behind Clarisse. His eyes locked on the object.

Clarisse noticed his shift in attention but just sneered. "Do you think I'll fall for your trick again?"

Before he could respond, two shining swords were pressed onto Clarisse's neck. 

"Maybe you should've listened to him, just this once," Ariana replied. Abbot was peeking out from behind her. She turned to Percy. "Go chase the moron that grabbed our flag."

Percy nodded and sprinted forwards.

Clarisse tried to grab him as he passed, but Abbot calmly walked forward and punched her in the solar plexus. "You're not getting anywhere near him," he told her.

His weak punch did nothing to affect Clarisse—except make her mad.

"Just this once," Clarisse muttered.

And then she decked him. 

Abbot flew back and crashed to the ground, unconscious. Percy, hearing the crash, skidded to a stop.

There was a stunned silence. Then, Ariana sighed. "I can't really do anything about that."

"That was really stupid," Clarisse agreed.

Ariana realized that Percy was still there. "What are you waiting for?! We're going to lose!"

"Right," Percy mumbled. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the shock that had overtaken his brain like the cobwebs in an abandoned house. And then he continued his journey.

Perhaps Ariana would work well for my plan, Percy mused. She's strong-willed, scary—and amazing at wielding swords.

In thought, he didn't notice the obstacle until it was too late. 

Percy tripped over something that didn't budge and he fell on top of it. His head clanged on metal. He rubbed his head in pain, wincing when he felt a small bump emerging. That's going to hurt for a few days . . .

He trailed off as he realized what he had hurt himself on. Or, more specifically, who.

He'd reached the far side of the clearing where Ariana had been fighting. All seven of the Ares warriors were slumped on the ground, sporting bruises—but no injuries from weapons. They weren't even a challenge to her.

Percy's eyes lit up in joy. He couldn't believe his luck. Adriana is perfect! Now, all I need to do is to convince her . . .

And then he remembered.

No. He couldn't do that to Abbot.

He couldn't split them up like what happened to Nico.

Percy climbed up to his feet, determined. He would be giving up on a guaranteed solution, but it was too selfish. 

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