The Sons of Light and Dark

Does Anyone Have Any Clue As To What I Just Did?

Michael POV

"REEEEET!" The squeal echoed through upper Manhattan. Demigods and monsters alike froze in terror.

"REEEEEET!" A huge pink creature soared over the reservoir—a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade nightmare blimp with wings.

"A sow!" Annabeth cried. "Take cover!"

The demigods scattered as the winged lady pig swooped down. Her wings were pink like a flamingo's, which matched her skin beautifully, but it was hard to think of her as cute when her hooves slammed into the ground, barely missing one of Annabeth's siblings. The pig stomped around and tore down half an acre of trees, belching a cloud of noxious gas. Then it took off again, circling around for another strike.

"Don't tell me that thing is from Greek mythology," Alex complained.

"Afraid so," Annabeth said. "The Clazmonian Sow. It terrorized Greek towns back in the day."

"Let me guess," I said. "Hercules beat it."

"Nope," Annabeth said. "As far as I know, no hero has ever beaten it."

"Perfect," Alex muttered.

The Titan's army was recovering from its shock. I guess they realized the pig wasn't after them. We only had seconds before they were ready to fight, and our forces were still in a panic. Every time the sow belched, Grover's nature spirits yelped and faded back into their trees.

"That pig has to go." I grabbed a grappling hook from one of the Athena kids. "I'll take care of it. You guys hold the rest of the enemy. Push them back!"

"But, Michael," Grover said, "what if we can't?"

I saw how tired he was. The magic had really drained him. Annabeth didn't look much better from fighting with a bad shoulder wound. Alex looked beyond exhausted and a few of the Demeter kids were still passed out. I didn't know how the Hunters were doing, but the right flank of the enemy army was now between them and us.

I didn't want to leave my friends in such bad shape, but that sow was the biggest threat. It would destroy everything: buildings, trees, sleeping mortals. It had to be stopped.

"Retreat if you need to," I said. "Just slow them down. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Before I could change my mind, I swung the grappling hook like a lasso. When the sow came down for its next pass, I threw with all my strength. The hook wrapped around the base of the pig's wing. It squealed in rage and veered off, yanking the rope and me into the sky.

If you're heading downtown from Central Park, my advice is to take the subway. Flying pigs are faster, but way more dangerous.

The sow soared past the Plaza Hotel, straight into the canyon of Fifth Avenue. My brilliant plan was to climb the rope and get on the pig's back. Unfortunately I was too busy swinging around dodging streetlamps and the sides of buildings.

Another thing I learned: it's one thing to climb a rope in gym class. It's a completely different thing to climb a rope attached to a moving pig's wing while you're flying at a hundred miles an hour.

We zigzagged along several blocks and continued south on Park Avenue.

Boss! Hey, boss! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dusk, one of my adult Seraf Wolves, speeding along next to us, darting back and forth to avoid the pig's wings. His fur was as black as his wings.

"Watch out!" I told him.

Hop off that thing! Dusk barked. I can catch you . . . probably.