The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4)

drakon.
    They clashed like some sort of weird Christmas combat scene – the red versus the green. The drakon spewed poison. The giant lunged to one side. He grabbed the oak tree and pulled it from the ground, roots and all. The old skullcrumbled to dust as the giant hefted the tree like a baseball bat.
    The drakon’s tail lashed around the giant’s waist, dragging him closer to its gnashing teeth. But as soon as the giant was in range he shoved the tree straight down the monster’s throat.
    Annabeth hoped she never had to see such a gruesome scene again. The tree pierced the drakon’s gullet and impaled it on the ground. The roots began to move, digging deeper as they touched the earth, anchoring the oak until it looked like it had stood in that spot for centuries. The drakon shook and thrashed, but it was pinned fast.
    The giant brought his fist down on the drakon’s neck.
CRACK.
The monster went limp. It began to dissolve, leaving only scraps of bone, meat, hide and a new drakon skull whose open jaws ringed the oak tree.
    Bob grunted. ‘Good one.’
    The kitten purred in agreement and started cleaning his paws.
    The giant kicked at the drakon’s remains, examining them critically. ‘No good bones,’ he complained. ‘I wanted a new walking stick. Hmpf. Some good skin for the outhouse, though.’
    He ripped some soft hide from the dragon’s frills and tucked it in his belt.
    ‘Uh …’ Annabeth wanted to ask if the giant really used drakon hide for toilet paper, but she decided against it. ‘Bob, do you want to introduce us?’
    ‘Annabeth …’ Bob patted Percy’s legs. ‘This is Percy.’
    Annabeth hoped the Titan was just messing with her, though Bob’s face revealed nothing.
    She gritted her teeth. ‘I meant the giant. You promised he could help.’
    ‘Promise?’ The giant glanced over from his work. His eyes narrowed under his bushy red brows. ‘A big thing, a promise. Why would Bob promise my help?’
    Bob shifted his weight. Titans were scary, but Annabeth had never seen one next to a giant before. Compared to the drakon-killer, Bob looked downright runty.
    ‘Damasen is a good giant,’ Bob said. ‘He is peaceful. He can cure poisons.’
    Annabeth watched the giant Damasen, who was now ripping chunks of bloody meat from the drakon carcass with his bare hands.
    ‘Peaceful,’ she said. ‘Yes, I can see that.’
    ‘Good meat for dinner.’ Damasen stood up straight and studied Annabeth, as if she were another potential source of protein. ‘Come inside. We will have stew. Then we will see about this promise.’

XXXIX
     

ANNABETH
     
    C OSY.
    Annabeth never thought she would describe anything in Tartarus that way, but, despite the fact that the giant’s hut was as big as a planetarium and constructed of bones, mud and drakon skin, it definitely felt cosy.
    In the centre blazed a bonfire made of pitch and bone; yet the smoke was white and odourless, rising through the hole in the middle of the ceiling. The floor was covered with dry marsh grass and grey wool rugs. At one end lay a massive bed of sheepskins and drakon leather. At the other end, freestanding racks were hung with drying plants, cured leather and what looked like strips of drakon jerky. The whole place smelled of stew, smoke, basil and thyme.
    The only thing that worried Annabeth was the flock of sheep huddled in a pen at the back of the hut.
    Annabeth remembered the cave of Polyphemus theCyclops, who ate demigods and sheep indiscriminately. She wondered if giants had similar tastes.
    Part of her was tempted to run, but Bob had already placed Percy in the giant’s bed, where he nearly disappeared in the wool and leather. Small Bob hopped off Percy and kneaded the blankets, purring so strongly the bed rattled like a Thousand Finger Massage.
    Damasen plodded to the bonfire. He tossed his drakon meat into a hanging pot that seemed to be made from an old monster skull, then picked up a ladle and began to stir.
    Annabeth didn’t want to be the next ingredient in his stew, but she’d come here for a reason. She took a deep breath and marched up to Damasen. ‘My friend is dying. Can you cure him or not?’
    Her voice caught on the word
friend.
Percy was a lot more than that. Even
boyfriend
really didn’t cover it. They’d been through so much together, at this point Percy was
part
of her – a sometimes annoying part, sure, but definitely a part she could not live without.
    Damasen looked down at her, glowering under