The House of Hades (The Heros of Olympus, Book 4)
The House of Hades: Chapter 38

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The drakon was easily the most beautiful thing Annabeth had seen since she had fallen into Tartarus. Its hide was dappled green and yellow, like sunlight through a forest canopy. Its reptilian eyes were Annabeth’s favorite shade of sea green (just like Percy’s). When its frills unfurled around its head, Annabeth couldn’t help but think what a regal and amazing monster it was that was about to kill her.

It was easily as long as a subway train. Its massive talons dug into the mud as it pulled itself forward, its tail whipping from side to side. The drakon hissed, spitting jets of green poison that smoked on the mossy ground and set tar pits on fire, filling the air with the scent of fresh pine and ginger. The monster even smelled good. Like most drakons, it was wingless, longer, and more snakelike than a dragon, and it looked hungry.

“Bob,” Annabeth said, “what are we facing here?”

“Maeonian drakon,” Bob said. “From Maeonia.”

More helpful information. Annabeth would’ve smacked Bob upside the head with his own broom if she could lift it. “Any way we can kill it?”

“Us?” Bob said. “No.”

The drakon roared as if to accentuate the point, filling the air with more pine-ginger poison, which would have made an excellent car-freshener scent.

“Get Percy to safety,” Annabeth said. “I’ll distract it.”

She had no idea how she would do that, but it was her only choice. She couldn’t let Percy die—not if she still had the strength to stand.

“You don’t have to,” Bob said. “Any minute—”

“ROOOOOAAAR!”

Annabeth turned as the giant emerged from his hut.

He was about twenty feet tall—typical giant height—with a humanoid upper body, and scaly reptilian legs, like a bipedal dinosaur. He held no weapon. Instead of armor, he wore only a shirt stitched together from sheep hides and green-spotted leather. His skin was cherry red; his beard and hair the color of iron rust, braided with tufts of grass, leaves, and swamp flowers.

He shouted in challenge, but thankfully he wasn’t looking at Annabeth. Bob pulled her out of the way as the giant stormed toward the 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 skull crumbled 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 to 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 drakon’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.”

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