Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Demigod Files

ago?”
    Annabeth nodded. “Some say its motor wore out so it went into the woods to deactivate itself. Or its programming went haywire. No one knows.”
    “You want to reassemble a haywire metal dragon?”
    “We have to try!” Annabeth said. “It’s Beckendorf’s only hope! Besides, this could be a sign from Hephaestus. The dragon should want to help one of Hephaestus’s kids. Beckendorf would want us to try.”
    I didn’t like the idea. On the other hand, I didn’t have any better suggestions. We were running out of time, and Silena looked like she was about to go into shock if we didn’t do something soon. Beckendorf had said something about a sign from Hephaestus. Maybe it was time to find out.
    “All right,” I said. “Let’s go find a headless dragon.”
    We searched forever , or maybe it just seemed that way, because the whole time, I was imagining Beckendorf in the Ant Hill, scared and paralyzed, while a bunch of armored critters scuttled around him, waiting for him to be tenderized.
    It wasn’t hard to follow the ants’ trail. They’d dragged the dragon’s head through the forest, making a deep rut in the mud, and we dragged the head right back the way they’d come.
    We must’ve gone a quarter of a mile—and I was getting worried about our time—when Annabeth said, “Di immortales.”
    We’d come to the rim of a crater—like something had blasted a house-size hole in the forest floor. The sides were slippery and dotted with tree roots. Ant tracks led to the bottom, where a large metal mound glinted through the dirt. Wires stuck up from a bronze stump on one end.
    “The dragon’s neck,” I said. “You think the ants made this crater?”
    Annabeth shook her head. “Looks more like a meteor blast. . . .”
    “Hephaestus,” Silena said. “The god must’ve unearthed this. Hephaestus wanted us to find the dragon. He wanted Charlie to . . .” She choked up.
    “Come on,” I said. “Let’s reconnect this bad boy.”
    Getting the dragon’s head to the bottom was easy. It tumbled right down the slope and hit the neck with a loud, metallic BONK! Reconnecting it was harder.
    We had no tools and no experience.
    Annabeth fiddled with the wires and cursed in Ancient Greek. “We need Beckendorf. He could do this in seconds.”
    “Isn’t your mom the goddess of inventors?” I asked.
    Annabeth glared at me. “Yes, but this is different. I’m good with ideas . Not mechanics.”
    “If I was going to pick one person in the world to reattach my head,” I said, “I’d pick you.”
    I just blurted it out—to give her confidence, I guess— but immediately I realized it sounded pretty stupid.
    “Awww. . .” Silena sniffled and wiped her eyes. “Percy, that is so sweet!”
    Annabeth blushed. “Shut up, Silena. Hand me your dagger.”
    I was afraid Annabeth was going to stab me with it. Instead she used it as a screwdriver, to open a panel in the dragon’s neck. “Here goes nothing,” she said.
    And she started to splice together the celestial bronze wires.
    It took a long time. Too long.
    I figured Capture the Flag had to be over by now. I wondered how soon the other campers would realize we were missing and come looking for us. If Annabeth’s calculations were correct (and they always were), Beckendorf probably had five or ten minutes left before the ants got him.
    Finally Annabeth stood up and exhaled. Her hands were scraped and muddy. Her fingernails were wrecked. She had a brown streak across her forehead where the dragon had decided to spit grease at her.
    “All right,” she said. “It’s done, I think. . . .”
    “You think ?” Silena asked.
    “It has to be done,” I said. “We’re out of time. How do you, uh, start it? Is there an ignition switch or something?”
    Annabeth pointed to its ruby eyes. “Those turn clockwise. I’m guessing we rotate them.”
    “If somebody twisted my eyeballs, I’d wake up,” I agreed. “What if it goes crazy on us?”
    “Then . . . we’re dead,” Annabeth said.
    “Great,” I said. “I’m psyched.”
    Together we turned the ruby eyes of the dragon. Immediately, they began to glow. Annabeth and I backed up so fast we fell over each other. The dragon’s mouth opened, as if it were testing its jaw. The head turned and looked at us. Steam poured from its ears, and it tried to rise.
    When it found it couldn’t move, the dragon seemed confused. It cocked its head and regarded the dirt. Finally, it realized it was buried.