The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4)

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    Hazel thought the stern had exploded. Jets of fire blasted out behind them, washing over the turtle’s head. The ship shot forward and threw Hazel to the deck again.
    She hauled herself up and saw that the ship was bouncing over the waves at incredible speed, trailing fire like a rocket. The turtle was already a hundred yards behind them, its head charred and smoking.
    The monster bellowed in frustration and started after them, its paddle feet scooping through the water with such power that it actually started to gain on them. The entrance to the straits was still a quarter mile ahead.
    ‘A distraction,’ Leo muttered. ‘We’ll never make it unless we get a distraction.’
    ‘A distraction,’ Hazel repeated.
    She concentrated and thought:
Arion!
    She had no idea whether it would work. But instantly Hazel spotted something on the horizon – a flash of light and steam. It streaked across the surface of the Adriatic. In a heartbeat, Arion stood on the quarterdeck.
    Gods of Olympus, Hazel thought. I love this horse.
    Arion snorted as if to say,
Of course you do. You’re not stupid.
    Hazel climbed on his back. ‘Piper, I could use that charmspeak of yours.’
    ‘Once upon a time, I liked turtles,’ Piper muttered, accepting a hand up. ‘Not any more!’
    Hazel spurred Arion. He leaped over the side of the boat, hitting the water at a full gallop.
    The turtle was a fast swimmer, but it couldn’t match Arion’s speed. Hazel and Piper zipped around the monster’s head, Hazel slicing with her sword, Piper shouting random commands like, ‘Dive! Turn left! Look behind you!’
    The sword did no damage. Each command only worked for a moment, but they were making the turtle very annoyed. Arion whinnied derisively as the turtle snapped at him, only to get a mouthful of horse vapour.
    Soon the monster had completely forgotten the
Argo II.
Hazel kept stabbing at its head. Piper kept yelling commands and using her cornucopia to bounce coconuts and roasted chickens off the turtle’s eyeballs.
    As soon as the
Argo II
had passed into the straits, Arion broke off his harassment. They sped after the ship, and a moment later were back on deck.
    The rocket fire had extinguished, though smoking bronze exhaust vents still jutted from the stern. The
Argo II
limpedforward under sail power, but their plan had paid off. They were safely harboured in the narrow waters, with a long, rocky island to starboard and the sheer white cliffs of the mainland to port. The turtle stopped at the entrance to the straits and glared at them balefully, but it made no attempt to follow. Its shell was obviously much too wide.
    Hazel dismounted and got a big hug from Frank. ‘Nice work out there!’ he said.
    Her face flushed. ‘Thanks.’
    Piper slid down next to her. ‘Leo, since when do we have
jet
propulsion?’
    ‘Aw, you know …’ Leo tried to look modest and failed. ‘Just a little something I whipped up in my spare time. Wish I could’ve given you more than a few seconds of burn, but at least it got us out of there.’
    ‘And roasted the turtle’s head,’ Jason said appreciatively. ‘So what now?’
    ‘Kill it!’ Coach said. ‘You even have to ask? We got enough distance. We got ballistae. Lock and load, demigods!’
    Jason frowned. ‘Coach, first of all, you made me lose my sword.’
    ‘Hey! I didn’t ask for an evac!’
    ‘Second, I don’t think the ballistae will do any good. That shell is like Nemean Lion skin. Its head isn’t any softer.’
    ‘So we chuck one right down its throat,’ Coach said, ‘like you guys did with that shrimp monster thing in the Atlantic. Light it up from the inside.’
    Frank scratched his head. ‘Might work. But then you’vegot a five-million-kilo turtle carcass blocking the entrance to the straits. If we can’t fly with the oars broken, how do we get the ship out?’
    ‘You wait and fix the oars!’ Coach said. ‘Or just sail in the other direction, you big galoot.’
    Frank looked confused. ‘What’s a galoot?’
    ‘Guys!’ Nico called down from the mast. ‘About sailing in the other direction? I don’t think that’s going to work.’
    He pointed past the prow.
    A quarter mile ahead of them, the long rocky strip of land curved in and met the cliffs. The channel ended in a narrow V.
    ‘We’re not in a strait,’ Jason said. ‘We’re in a dead end.’
    Hazel got a cold feeling in her fingers and toes. On the port rail, Gale the weasel sat up on her