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Even Dr. Thorn winced and growled when he saw it.
Thalia moved in with her spear. “For Zeus!”
I thought Dr. Thorn was a goner. Thalia jabbed at his head, but he snarled and swatted the spear aside. His hand changed into an orange paw, with enormous claws that sparked against Thalia’s shield as he slashed. If it hadn’t been for Aegis, Thalia would’ve been sliced like a loaf of bread. As it was, she managed to roll backward and land on her feet.
The sound of the helicopter was getting louder behind me, but I didn’t dare look.
Dr. Thorn launched another volley of missiles at Thalia, and this time I could see how he did it. He had a tail—a leathery, scorpionlike tail that bristled with spikes at the tip. The missiles deflected off Aegis, but the force of their impact knocked Thalia down.
Grover sprang forward. He put his reed pipes to his lips and began to play—a frantic jig that sounded like something pirates would dance to. Grass broke through the snow. Within seconds, rope-thick weeds were wrapping around Dr. Thorn’s legs, entangling him.
Dr. Thorn roared and began to change. He grew larger until he was in his true form—his face still human, but his body that of a huge lion. His leathery, spiky tail whipped deadly thorns in all directions.
“A manticore!” A
“Who are you people?” Bianca di Angelo demanded. “And what is that?”
“A manticore?” Nico gasped. “He’s got three thousand attack power and plus five to saving throws!”
I didn’t know what he was talking about, but I didn’t have time to worry about it. The manticore clawed Grover’s magic weeds to shreds then turned toward us with a snarl.
“Get down!” A
I heard a thwack and a yelp, and Grover landed next to me with a thud.
“Yield!” the monster roared.
“Never!” Thalia yelled from across the field. She charged the monster, and for a second, I thought she would run him through. But then there was a thunderous noise and a blaze of light from behind us. The helicopter appeared out of the mist, hovering just beyond the cliffs. It was a sleek black military-style gunship, with attachments on the sides that looked like laser-guided rockets. The helicopter had to be ma
“No!” I ran out to help her. I parried away a spike just before it would’ve hit her chest. I raised my shield over us, but I knew it wouldn’t be enough.
Dr. Thorn laughed. “Now do you see how hopeless it is? Yield, little heroes.”
We were trapped between a monster and a fully armed helicopter. We had no chance.
Then I heard a clear, piercing sound: the call of a hunting horn blowing in the woods.
The manticore froze. For a moment, no one moved. There was only the swirl of snow and wind and the chopping of the helicopter blades.
“No,” Dr. Thorn said. “It ca
His sentence was cut short when something shot past me like a streak of moonlight. A glowing silver arrow sprouted from Dr. Thorn’s shoulder.
He staggered backward, wailing in agony.
“Curse you!” Thorn cried. He unleashed his spikes, dozens of them at once, into the woods where the arrow had come from, but just as fast, silvery arrows shot back in reply. It almost looked like the arrows had intercepted the thorns in midair and sliced them in two, but my eyes must’ve been playing tricks on me. No one, not even Apollo’s kids at camp, could shoot with that much accuracy.
The manticore pulled the arrow out of his shoulder with a howl of pain. His breathing was heavy. I tried to swipe at him with my sword, but he wasn’t as injured as he looked. He dodged my attack and slammed his tail into my shield, knocking me aside.
Then the archers came from the woods. They were girls, about a dozen of them. The youngest was maybe ten. The oldest, about fourteen, like me. They wore silvery ski parkas and jeans, and they were all armed with bows. They advanced on the manticore with determined expressions.
“The Hunters!” A
Next to me, Thalia muttered, “Oh, wonderful.”
I didn’t have a chance to ask what she meant.
One of the older archers stepped forward with her bow drawn. She was tall and graceful with coppery colored skin. Unlike the other girls, she had a silver circlet braided into the top of her long dark hair, so she looked like some kind of Persian princess. “Permission to kill, my lady?”
I couldn’t tell who she was talking to, because she kept her eyes on the manticore.
The monster wailed. “This is not fair! Direct interference! It is against the Ancient Laws.”
“Not so,” another girl said. This one was a little younger than me, maybe twelve or thirteen. She had auburn hair gathered back in a ponytail and strange eyes, silvery yellow like the moon. Her face was so beautiful it made me catch my breath, but her expression was stern and dangerous. “The hunting of all wild beasts is within my sphere. And you, foul creature, are a wild beast.” She looked at the older girl with the circlet. “Zoë, permission granted.”
The manticore growled. “If I ca
He lunged at Thalia and me, knowing we were weak and dazed.
“No!” A
“Get back, half-blood!” the girl with the circlet said. “Get out of the line of fire!”
But A
“Fire!” Zoë ordered.
“No!” I screamed.
But the Hunters let their arrows fly. The first caught the manticore in the neck. Another hit his chest. The manticore staggered backward, wailing, “This is not the end, Huntress! You shall pay!”
And before anyone could react, the monster, with A
“A
I started to run after her, but our enemies weren’t done with us. There was a snap-snap-snap from the helicopter—the sound of gunfire.
Most of the Hunters scattered as tiny holes appeared in the snow at their feet, but the girl with auburn hair just looked up calmly at the helicopter.
“Mortals,” she a
She thrust out her hand, and the helicopter exploded into dust—no, not dust. The black metal dissolved into a flock of birds—ravens, which scattered into the night.
The Hunters advanced on us.
The one called Zoë stopped short when she saw Thalia. “You,” she said with distaste.
“Zoë Nightshade.” Thalia’s voice trembled with anger. “Perfect timing, as usual.”
Zoë sca
“Yes,” the younger girl said. “Some of Chiron’s campers, I see.”
“A
The auburn-haired girl turned toward me. “I’m sorry, Percy Jackson, but your friend is beyond help.”
I tried to struggle to my feet, but a couple of the girls held me down.
“You are in no condition to be hurling yourself off cliffs,” the auburn-haired girl said.
“Let me go!” I demanded. “Who do you think you are?”