The Last Olympian

Greek.
    “What?” Annabeth asked.
    “The spy,” I told her. “Kronos said, we know this drakon they cannot beat . The spy has been keeping him updated. Kronos knows the Ares cabin isn’t with us. He intentionally picked a monster we can’t kill.”
    Thalia scowled. “If I ever catch your spy, he’s going to be very sorry. Maybe we could send another messenger to camp—”
    “I’ve already done it,” Chiron said. “Blackjack is on his way. But if Silena wasn’t able to convince Clarisse, I doubt Blackjack will be able—”
    A roar shook the ground. It sounded very close.
    “Rachel,” I said, “get inside the building.”
    “I want to stay.”
    A shadow blotted out the sun. Across the street, the drakon slithered down the side of a skyscraper. It roared, and a thousand windows shattered. “On second thought,” Rachel said in a small voice, “I’ll be inside.”
     
    * * *
     
    Let me explain: there are dragons, and then there are drakons .
    Drakons are several millennia older than dragons, and much larger. They look like giant serpents. Most don’t have wings. Most don’t breathe fire (though some do). All are poisonous. All are immensely strong, with scales harder than titanium. Their eyes can paralyze you; not the turn-you-to-stone Medusa-type paralysis, but the oh-my-gods-that-big-snake-is-going-to-eat-me type of paralysis, which is just as bad.
    We have drakon-fighting classes at camp, but there is no way to prepare yourself for a two-hundred-foot-long serpent as thick as a school bus slithering down the side of a building, its yellow eyes like searchlights, and its mouth full of razor-sharp teeth big enough to chew elephants.
    It almost made me long for the flying pig.
    Meanwhile, the enemy army advanced down Fifth Avenue. We’d done our best to push cars out of the way to keep the mortals safe, but that just made it easier for our enemies to approach. The Party Ponies swished their tails nervously. Chiron galloped up and down their ranks, shouting encouragement to stand tough and think about victory and root beer, but I figured any second they would panic and run.
    “I’ll take the drakon.” My voice came out as a timid squeak. Then I yelled louder: “I’LL TAKE THE DRAKON! Everyone else, hold the line against the army!”
    Annabeth stood next to me. She had pulled her owl helmet low over her face, but I could tell her eyes were red.
    “Will you help me?” I asked.
    “That’s what I do,” she said miserably. “I help my friends.”
    I felt like a complete jerk. I wanted to pull her aside and explain that I didn’t mean for Rachel to be here, that it wasn’t my idea, but we had no time.
    “Go invisible,” I said. “Look for weak links in its armor while I keep it busy. Just be careful.”
    I whistled. “Mrs. O’Leary, heel!”
    “ROOOF!” My hellhound leaped over a line of centaurs and gave me a kiss that smelled suspiciously of pepperoni pizza.
    I drew my sword and we charged the monster.
    The drakon was three stories above us, slithering sideways along the building as it sized up our forces. Wherever it looked, centaurs froze in fear.
    From the north, the enemy army crashed into the Party Ponies, and our lines broke. The drakon lashed out, swallowing three Californian centaurs in one gulp before I could even get close.
    Mrs. O’Leary launched herself through the air—a deadly black shadow with teeth and claws. Normally, a pouncing hellhound is a terrifying sight, but next to the drakon, Mrs. O’Leary looked like a child’s night-night doll.
    Her claws raked harmlessly off the drakon’s scales. She bit the monster’s throat but couldn’t make a dent. Her weight, however, was enough to knock the drakon off the side of the building. It flailed awkwardly and crashed to the sidewalk, hellhound and serpent twisting and thrashing. The drakon tried to bite Mrs. O’Leary, but she was too close to the serpent’s mouth. Poison spewed everywhere, melting centaurs into dust along with quite a few monsters, but Mrs. O’Leary weaved around the serpent’s head, scratching and biting.
    “YAAAH!” I plunged Riptide deep into the monster’s left eye. The spotlight went dark. The drakon hissed and reared back to strike, but I rolled aside.
    It bit a swimming-pool-size chunk out of the pavement. It turned toward me with its good eye, and I focused on its teeth so I wouldn’t get paralyzed. Mrs. O’Leary did her best to cause a distraction. She leaped onto the serpent’s