2.3 |𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲 𝐕𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐬 𝐀 𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥

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~🌊~{[CHAPTER THREE]}~🌊~

[Daisy Vaporizes A Giant Bull]





Mythologically speaking, if there's anything Percy hated worse than trios of old ladies, it was bulls. Last summer, he fought the Minotaur on top of Half-Blood Hill. This time what he saw up there was even worse: two bulls. And not just regular bulls bronze ones the size of elephants. And even that wasn't bad enough. Naturally they had to breathe fire, too. As soon as they exited the taxi, the Grey 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 them on the side of the road, Annabeth with nothing but her backpack and knife, Tyson and me still in our burned-up tie-dyed gym clothes, and Daisy looking like they just told her that her twin sister had died.

"Oh, man," said Daisy, looking at the battle raging on the hill. What worried Percy most weren't the bulls themselves. Or the ten heroes in full battle armour who were getting their bronze-plated booties whooped. What worried him was that the bulls were ranging all over the hill, even around the back side 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 of the heroes shouted,

"Border patrol, to me!" A girl's voice – gruff and familiar. Border patrol? He thought. The camp didn't have a border patrol.

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

Normally, rushing to Clarisse's aid would not have been high on his 'to do' list. She was one of the biggest bullies at camp. The first time they'd met she tried to introduce his head to a toilet. She was also a daughter of Ares, and he'd had a very serious disagreement with her father last summer, so now the god of war and all his children basically hated his guts.

Still, she was in trouble. Her fellow warriors were scattering, 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 own 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. Percy uncapped his ballpoint pen. It shimmered, growing longer and heavier until he held the bronze sword Anaklusmos in his hands.

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

"No!" Annabeth said. "We need him. Daisy, can you -" She looked around, but Daisy was no longer standing beside them.

"Did anyone see which way she went?"

Percy and Tyson both pointed up the hill towards the battle.

"Well, in that case, we need Tyson even more-" Percy stared at her.

"He's mortal. He got lucky with the dodgeballs 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 nightstand at home. Why didn't I bring it?" He'd learned a long time ago not to question Annabeth too much. It just made his more confused.

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

"Percy –"

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