Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Demigod Files

The neck strained once, twice . . . and the center of the crater erupted.
    The dragon pulled itself awkwardly out of the ground, shaking clumps of mud from its body the way a dog might, splattering us from head to toe. The automaton was so awesome, none of us could speak. I mean, sure it needed a trip through the car wash, and there were a few loose wires sticking out here and there, but the dragon’s body was amazing—like a high-tech tank with legs. Its sides were plated with bronze and gold scales, encrusted with gemstones. Its legs were the size of tree trunks, and its feet had steel talons. It had no wings—most Greek dragons don’t—but its tail was at least as long as its main body, which was the size of a school bus. The neck creaked and popped as it turned its head to the sky and blew a column of triumphant fire.
    “Well . . .” I said in a small voice. “It still works.”
    Unfortunately, it heard me. Those ruby eyes zeroed in on me, and it stuck its snout two inches from my face. Instinctively, I reached for my sword.
    “Dragon, stop!” Silena yelled. I was amazed her voice still worked. She spoke with such command that the automaton turned its attention to her.
    Silena swallowed nervously. “We’ve woken you to defend the camp. You remember? That is your job!”
    The dragon tilted its head as if it were thinking. I figured Silena had about a fifty-fifty chance of getting blasted with fire. I was considering jumping on the thing’s neck to distract it, when Silena said, “Charles Beckendorf, a son of Hephaestus, is in trouble. The Myrmekes have taken him. He needs your help.”
    At the word Hephaestus , the dragon’s neck straightened. A shiver rippled through its metal body, throwing a new shower of mud clods all over us.
    The dragon looked around, as if trying to find an enemy.
    “We have to show it,” Annabeth said. “Come on, dragon! This way to the son of Hephaestus! Follow us!”
    Just like that, she drew her sword, and the three of us climbed out of the pit.
    “For Hephaestus!” Annabeth yelled, which was a nice touch. We charged through the woods. When I looked behind us, the bronze dragon was right on our tail, its red eyes glowing and steam coming out its nostrils.
    It was good incentive to keep running fast as we headed for the Ant Hill.
    When we got to the clearing, the dragon seemed to catch Beckendorf’s scent. It barreled ahead of us, and we had to jump out of its way to avoid getting flattened. It crashed through the trees, joints creaking, feet pounding craters into the ground.
    It charged straight for the Ant Hill. At first, the Myrmekes didn’t know what was happening. The dragon stepped on a few of them, smashing them to bug juice. Then their telepathic network seemed to light up, like: Big dragon. Bad!
    All the ants in the clearing turned simultaneously and swarmed the dragon. More ants poured out of the hill— hundreds of them. The dragon blew fire and sent a whole column of them into a panicked retreat. Who knew ants were flammable? But more kept coming.
    “Inside, now!” Annabeth told us. “While they’re focused on the dragon!”
    Silena led the charge; it was the first time I’d ever followed a child of Aphrodite into battle. We ran past the ants, but they ignored us. For some reason they seemed to consider the dragon a bigger threat. Go figure.
    We plunged into the nearest tunnel, and I almost gagged from the stench. Nothing, I mean nothing, stinks worse than a giant ant lair. I could tell they let their food rot before eating it. Somebody seriously needed to teach them about refrigerators.
    Our journey inside was a blur of dark tunnels and moldy rooms carpeted with old ant shells and pools of goo. Ants surged past us on their way to battle, but we just stepped aside and let them pass. The faint bronze glow of my sword gave us light as we made our way deeper into the nest.
    “Look!” Annabeth said.
    I glanced into a side room, and my heart skipped a beat. Hanging from the ceiling were huge, gooey sacks— ant larvae, I guess—but that’s not what got my attention. The cave floor was heaped with gold coins, gems, and other treasures—helmets, swords, musical instruments, jewelry. They glowed the way magic items do.
    “That’s just one room,” Annabeth said. “There are probably hundreds of nurseries down here, decorated with treasure.”
    “It’s not important,” Silena insisted. “We have to find Charlie!”
    Another first: a child of