Ch. 6

"C'mon, it was a strike of genius, admit it," Hawkeye chides me the next day as we walk through camp, heading over to Zane's tent, where the prisoner is being held.

"It was clever," I say grudgingly.

"Clever? I snatch the love of Jackson's life out from under his nose and all you can come up with for me is clever?" he protests.

"Alright, alright, it was mildly amazing," I admit, "but you didn't actually do it."

"I did too. Zane distracted Jackson, I jumped her, and Mokkan carried her around for us. It was a combined effort."

"Only after she almost took your head off, yeah. And I torched the forest and half the cabins," I remind him. "If that's not called lasting damage, nothing is. I didn't see you causing havoc, notice."

"I was busy setting up emotional turmoil for Jackson by capturing his girlfriend," Hawkeye says, "and besides, Zane seems to think you caused enough damage than the whole Rebel Camp put together could have."

The Rebel Camp had become the nickname for our camp over the last couple of days. Those that lived in it were called the Rebels (duh). I grin. "Does he now? Well, that is one of my better talents."

Hawkeye rolls his eyes. "I've noticed. And that fire thing wasn't even your idea, you know, in case you've forgotten already."

"You're just jealous you didn't think it up yourself. It'd bring your total of good ideas that work up to, what, two? That must be a real shocker for a modest thing like you."

"Whatever, Christine."

"And you could have freaking waited for us, you know. We were only a couple of minutes late, and half dead on our feet. That's not a good way to make friends, abandoning them on the battlefield," I berate Hawkeye.

He looks exasperated. "We would have left anyone, Christine. That was the plan. If you missed the retreat, you were on your own. I don't think it really matters anyway, seeing as you're healthy enough to chew me out."

"Point made," I say fairly. "But you still have stooped below my expectations for you, which were pretty low in the first place. That's not a very flattering place to be, in my humble opinion."

"Humble? My gods, I don't think you could have chosen a worse word to describe yourself."

"You want me to describe you? You think you have some expressive words to describe me, buddy, you should see the list I could come up with for you!"

"Anyway, Zane actually thought you might have left us," he goes on, ignoring me. "You certainly could move fast enough to do so, judging by that sprint to the border you pulled off."

I cock my head to one side, a canine habit I can't seem to break no matter how hard I try. "What's that supposed to mean? I barely made it."

Hawkeye looks at me disbelievingly. "Christine, you didn't see yourself or Mokkan. You guys didn't need those six seconds. You made it in just under three. That's more than ten feet a second. That's. . . that's fast." He looks ready to kick himself for giving me a compliment.

I don't really know how to respond to Hawkeye actually saying something nice in just general argument, instead of like, trying to wheedle a favor out of me. Fortunately, by now we've arrived at our prisoner, and I am spared.

We have Annabeth Chase tied to a streetlamp beside Zane's tent for all to see, open to the elements. This eliminates the need for a sentry since there's always someone around to gawk at her and see Percy Jackson's girl for themselves, in her weak, defeated state. The problem was, these gawkers weren't always nice.

Personally, I didn't really care. After all, Chase was a prisoner of war, so what would you expect? But Zane and Hawkeye seemed obsessed with keeping her alive. I had no idea why, but they insisted on keeping the torture to a low degree and having her look as lively as possible. Maybe they were just trying to look professional; I dunno.

Today, Chase's visitors are a pack of telekhine pups. Now, I love all telekhines, but I have a soft spot for the pups especially. They're incredibly curious about everything, eager to learn, and very cute. They're also incredibly, unbelievably evil.

Hawkeye groans when he catches sight of the pups swarming Chase yelling at each other and thinking up creative ways to make her life miserable. "Hey," he calls, "what do you think you're doing?"

They ignore him. "Christine!" one yells, waddling over to me. "Christine, does hooking people up to jumper cables really electrocute them?"

How can you not love that? "I don't know, Ziral," I say, looking down at the pup. "Why do you want to know?"

"Cuz Predak high jacked a car last night and says that we can have it, and Echidna told us that when you electrocute humans long enough, their hair will burn. Is that true? We were just gonna throw matches at her, but then we found some jumper cables," Ziral chirps happily, while Hawkeye splutters.

"I really don't know how you electrocute people," I tell the pups. "The matches might work though, if you tie her down tight."

"I have Scotch tape!" one pup calls, and they all cheer. I join in encouragingly.

"Absolutely not!" Hawkeye says loudly to the pups. "This is--"

I whack him. "Don't squash their creativity, they're experimenting. They're learning stuff."

"Maybe so," Hawkeye argues, "but they're also going to kill her if we're not careful."

"So?" I ask, shrugging. "She'll probably die anyway, if I know Zane. Go get your car battery," I tell Ziral. He whoops and stampedes off with several other pups.

"Are you on crack?" Hawkeye demands. "Do you think we went to all that work of getting her just to let this lot dissect her or whatever? If we play our cards right, she'll become a bargaining chip. Jackson goes to extreme measures to protect the people he loves--it's his fatal flaw. Who knows what he'll do to get her back."

I scoff. "The pups aren't doing any damage; I don't think you can kill somebody with a car battery anyway--"

"They'll find a way!"

"--and besides, Annabeth doesn't mind, do you, Pretty?" I flash Chase my fangs.

She's on the ground with her back resting against the light pole, her knees drawn up to her chest, her arms tightly bound behind her. Her clothes are torn, and blood trickles from the corners of her mouth. She looks up at me weakly through her lashes, blood-matted golden curls falling across her perfect face. "Bitch," she rasps hoarsely.

A telekhine pup jumps forward and claps a flipper over Chase's mouth. "No bad words," he scolds her firmly as I crack up.

Hawkeye looks sick of all of us. "You might find that description works on a number of levels."

Even in her delirious state, Chase's Athena genes shine through, and she noticed that there is meaning behind what Hawkeye said. Her eyes flick from me to him and back again. "You wish you knew," I hiss at her.

My entire life, I've gone to great lengths to make sure none of the demigods ever make the connection between the huge, red-furred beast that smashes through walls and Christine Savage. That's why I don't like to talk much in wolf form, because I have been told that I have a very distinctive voice, and some satyr or something might recognize it. I don't want them to know, when I fight, that I am capable of much more than the average wolf of traitor.

I can feel Chase and Hawkeye watching me. I flip Hawkeye the bird and sneer at Chase. "You wish you knew," I tell her again, quietly.

Ziral and his friends choose that moment to reappear, actually dragging a real car battery. "Christine!" Ziral yells. "Do you think it'll work? Io lent us a fluid lighter and matches when we told her what we were doing , just in case it didn't. Which part of her do you think will burn fastest? Will she really get electrocuted? Will it kill her?" he says excitedly.

"Throw stuff in her hair," I advise. "And don't listen to Hawkeye; he doesn't know what he's talking about. Make her scream for me."

Ziral laughs and lights a match with gusto, and the other telekhine pups begin to chant, "Burn the girl! Burn the girl! Burn the girl!" Fear flickers across Chase's face. Hawkeye cusses me out in ancient Greek and makes a lunge for Ziral.

"Have fun saving your prisoner," I call to Hawkeye as I walk off, leaving him to baby-sit for the next four hours.

_____________________________________________________________

Io and I are awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of combat in the distance.

Before I can even process what I'm hearing, I've morphed into wolf form and burst from the tent, running through the still-sleeping camp towards the fight, following the scent of blood, Io on my heels.

At the edge of our camp, all Hades has broken loose. Our menagerie of monsters is battling demigods dressed completely in black, fighting silently as shadows. They had located out camp and ambushed us, using our own tactics against us. Most of the camp hasn't even realized they were here yet, except the night guard and the residents on the very outskirts of the Rebel Camp.

I have know idea how many demigods there are, or if we're winning or losing, but I throw myself into battle without a second thought. Pouncing on a black-clad demigod and dragging him off the back of an empousa, I try to wrestle him to the cement. He twists out of my grasp and lunges at me with his sword, and I dodge the blade throw myself at him. We clash together in midair, hitting the pavement and rolling through the growing chaos, a whirling, spitting blur of black and red.

The demigod smashes me into an alley wall with amazing force, winding me and making me see stars for several seconds. He takes my momentary lack of awareness to draw his sword and come in for a kill, but I kick out blindly with a hind paw with all the force I can muster and catch him at the knee, snapping his left leg at an odd angle with a pleasant crack. He gasps in pain and staggers sideways, doubled over and trying not to collapse. I leap to my paws, but before I can rip him open like the worthless bug he is, an arrow sprouts from his neck, and he dies on the spot.

"It's about time you got here," I tell Damian as he appears out of the shadows at my side, even though I've only been in the battle myself for maybe thirty seconds tops.

"Are you kidding?" he asks. "I was one of the first ones here." He fits one more arrow into his bow and lets it fly. Another demigod down.

"Is Jackson here?" I say, darting forward several steps and catching a half-dead demigod as she rolls by, sent flying by a blow from one of our Hyperborean giants.

"I haven't seen him yet but I assume he tagged along, considering this is about Chase." He calmly selects another arrow as I wrap my huge jaw around the demigod's head and squeeze. "You know," he tells me, "that is really disgusting."

I pry my teeth from the crushed skull of the demigod girl and spit a piece of who knows what at him, blood dripping from my muzzle. "Watch that one coming up on your back," I warn him. Damian whirls around and lets the arrow fly at the demigod sneaking up behind him, not even bothering to stop and aim. He hits the demigod right in the stomach anyway.

On the other side of the battle, one of the demigods throws a Greek fire bomb at the head of a giant, blowing off everything from the giant's collarbone up and sprinkling the fighters with tidbits of indescribable substances. The decapitated body of the giant falls in slow motion, like a skyscraper, crushing everything and everybody too slow to get out from beneath it, both demigods and Rebels alike.

Not far from there, Jackson's pet hellhound, Mrs. O'Leary or something stupid like that, is dog fighting Mokkan, and getting her butt kicked too. Mokkan leaps on Mrs. O'Leary's back, even though she is almost twice as sturdy as him, and she crashes to the ground, scratching clumps of black hair out of Mokkan's shoulder.

Two telekhines, a hellhound, and three Rebel demigods are involved in a mini battle of their own with the demigod Ares girl who killed Kronos's drakon. She fights like a freaking maniac, with the ferocity of about twelve of her half-siblings. The Rebels are keeping her at bay, but just barely, and their battle veers towards Damian and me. I bound forward and leap over the head of a telekhine, hitting the Ares girl in the back. She hits the ground in a graceful roll despite her muscular bulk, and returns to her feet in one fluid motion, parrying my claws with her sword. A hellhound jumps her from behind, latching his teeth around her neck, but she kicks him in the gut and slams her fist into the side of his head, right on the temple, fending off a strike attack from a traitor demigod at the same time, and the hellhound lurches back, releasing her neck.

I leap forward again, but Mrs. O'Leary, with Mokkan and Katrina on her tail, hits me full on in the ribs, and the three hellhounds and I roll away. I extract myself from Katrina, who had practically run me over, and push Mrs. O'Leary off my chest, leaving them to fight it out.

The Ares girl has moved off, taking her miniature battle with her, and Damian has long since disappeared back into the shadows. More of our camp has become aware of the action, and our numbers are increasing. The Sphinx was thrashing some demigods that a Hyperborean giant had pinned down; Echidna and her Chimera were wreaking havoc on a major scale, barbecuing any demigod stupid enough to go near them; some dracaenae were chasing down some satyrs that had been trying to turn Zane into a willow tree.

I still hadn't seen Jackson though, or Di Angelo or Hawkeye either, all three who were usually pretty easy to spot in battle. That worries me slightly.

Io seems to be having the same thoughts. "Christine!" she yells, ducking out of a duel with a demigod when she spots me. "Have you seen Jackson? He was here when we came--I haven't seen him since."

I shake my head. "I haven't seen him at all, I don't--" At that moment, an alley wall fifty yards behind us collapses, sending dust and rubble into the sky with a deafening cash. The scent of sea spray wafts across my nose. "Never mind! That's him."

I'm off and running towards the destruction, Io, Mrs. O'Leary, Echidna, and many others close behind. The wall is almost completely destroyed, nothing remaining except a mountain of red brick rubble. Cries of the wounded trapped beneath the bricks split the night sky.

I work the cement with my nose to the ground, scenting for Jackson, but if his smell remains I certainly don't catch it. I do recognize another scent though, and my heart leaps to my throat as I follow it to the very bottom of the pile of rock.

Digging furiously, I slowly uncover the barely conscious form of Hawkeye. "Oh gods, you moron. . ."

He's in bad shape. The entire right half of his body from his neck to his hips is completely crushed, ribs puncturing his skin and sticking out of his body grotesquely, his right arm bent at an unnatural angle in at least three places and popped out of it's socket. He's covered in slashes and scrapes, and blood drains from his mouth, leading me to suspect major internal damage.

I gently drag him away from the rubble just as the whole pile shifts, and a slab of wall bigger than me crashes down where Hawkeye had been seconds before, covering everyone in a layer of brick dust. Hawkeye is racked by a fit of raspy, painful coughing that makes his whole body convulse. Damian runs up, throwing his bow over his shoulder, and falls to his knees on the other side of Hawkeye.

"Oh man," he whispers, "the rubble couldn't have done this to him. . . He must have been the one they used to bring down the wall. Only being thrown against a hard surface could have caused an injury like this."

Hawkeye's coughing subsides, but his breathing is rapid and strained, and he's trembling. "Jackson. . ." he hisses, his voice barely recognizable, blood dripping off his lips.

I push his bloody black hair away from his eyes with my nose. "Was he here?" I ask "Which way did he go?"

"Chase," he rasps weakly, spitting blood on me.

"Jackson knows where she is?" Damian asks urgently.

"Di Angelo does." Hawkeye's breathing becomes erratic and increasingly desperate sounding as he gasps this out, and he begins to cough again. He's still loosing blood at a horrible rate, between his mouth and all his wounds.

I know all I need to know. Jackson, Nico Di Angelo, and someone strong enough to use Hawkeye to break down a wall have located Chase and gone to get her back. And unless that part of the camp is awake yet, there's no one to stop them. "I'm going in," I tell Damian quickly. "Get Hawkeye out of here, get him medical attention."

Without waiting for Damian to reply, I leap over Hawkeye and race off in the direction of the prisoner, weaving between duels and tents, taking a snap at any enemy demigod I meet on the way.

As I near the center of the camp, the crowd thins out until I am the only one around. This is rather unnerving, but I have caught the scent of Jackson and the other two. He smells like the ocean to me, appropriately, and Di Angelo carries the musty scent of the dead, both very distinguished smells to someone with heightened senses like myself. I don't recognize the third scent; it smells like a cyclops. I remember that Jackson had picked up a cyclops half-brother several years ago, Tyson, who fought occasionally at his side.

Pawsteps sounding similar to my own echo from behind me, and I turn to find Mokkan approaching. He gives me a You didn't think you were the only one who got to see all the action, did you? kind of look. I flash him a genuine smile, a very rare thing for me, and continue to run, but now with Mokkan beside me.

We hear the intruders before we see them. Chase is whispering something to Jackson, sounding teary and relieved, but I can't make out the words. I doubt it's anything I really need to hear anyway. When we're about three tents away, just out of sight, the cyclops's voice sounds out. "Monsters!"

Yep, that's us.

Mokkan and I appear around the last tent faster than Jackson and the others can react. Di Angelo reels backwards as Mokkan flashes by him and rams into Tyson head-first, surprising him and knocking him backwards into a tent. I lunge for Jackson and Chase, hitting Jackson in the side and pushing Chase away from him. I knock the pretty blond girl to the pavement and push down on her neck with a paw, cutting off her air. Behind me, Mokkan, a struggling Nico Di Angelo dangling from his mouth, shoves Jackson away from me.

The cyclops comes at me from the side, slamming a fist into my ribs before I can leap out of the way. He sends me rolling off Chase, and she sucks in a loud breath. "Percy!" she screams, scrambling to her feet.

Mokkan has dropped Di Angelo on the pavement and is now launching a full-fledged attack on Jackson, forcing him away from Chase. Di Angelo, from where he was kneeled on the ground, gets a determined look I recognize too well.

The cyclops reaches forward and catches Chase around the waist as she runs forward, holding her back as Di Angelo's skeletons begin to claw their way out of the pavement.

Oh man, I think. These things are impossible to fight, especially since once they have all emerged, Mokkan and I will be outnumbered almost ten to one. Fighting them is suicide. Well, more suicidal than most of our stunts, anyway.

Making one of those snap decisions I'm getting famous for, I flash forward and grab Chase's arm in my teeth. Tyson lunges for her, but he isn't nearly as fast as I am. "C'mon, Mokkan!" I call to the hellhound, who was dodging blows from Jackson. Chase screams in frustration and hatred and withers around as I drag her back through camp, Mokkan beside me, both of us grinning meanly.

Behind us, Jackson, Di Angelo, the cyclops and the skeletons are chasing after us for all they're worth, but are getting increasingly more distracted. As Mokkan and I ran through camp with Chase, we wake up all the Rebels who still don't know of the battle raging at the edge of camp. They burst out of their tents and practically step on Jackson and his crew, who they attack without hesitation, much to my delight.

Mokkan and I return to the edge of camp where the action is still the heaviest, me still dragging Chase by the arm. Zane spots us right away. "What in Hades are you doing with her?" he yells, braining a demigod with somebody's leg. "Do you want them to get her back?"

I cackle. "Are you insane? If it wasn't for me, your precious princess would be halfway back to Camp Half-Blood by now."

"What are you--"

"RETREAT!" a satyr bellows somewhere to our left. The cry is swiftly taken up by the demigods and satyrs alike, and before thirty seconds had passed, half the surviving invaders had fled the battle. Behind us, Jackson and Di Angelo burst from the tents, both looking shell-shocked and desperate. Jackson sees Chase, still caught in my jaw, and lunges forward with a cry. I slam Chase into the pavement on her stomach, placing my front paws on her shoulder blades, my muzzle poised above her neck as she screams his name. Zane, Io, Mokkan, Katrina, and many others step defensively forward, teeth and weapons bared, but there is no need. Di Angelo grabs Jackson's arm, hauling him back.

"No Percy! That monster will kill her before you ever get there!" he yells. "No!"

Dead silence falls suddenly on the camp, as if someone has flipped a switch. Everyone, both the Rebels and the remaining demigods, wait uneasily for someone to move. Jackson stares at me, his piercing green eyes searing into mine. I grin and display my large yellow fangs, lowering my head closer to Chase's neck. She sobs quietly, tears leaving streaks in the grime on her face. "Go," she whispers, barely audible.

Jackson stares at her, a look of immeasurable pain on his face. I laugh evilly into the silence. Live or love, buddy?

"GO!" Chase shouts it this time, and is immediately taken over by unrestrained sobs.

Jackson gives me a look of utmost loathing, and slowly, quietly takes a step back. Di Angelo grabs his other arm, takes a several angry steps to the side, and shadow travels away, taking Jackson with him.

The Rebel Camp explodes into victorious cheering, and I raise my head and howl to the night skies. Beneath me, Chase struggles weakly, sobbing hysterically. "You monster!" she screams. "You--y-you absolute evil little-- l-little--" she trails off, crying pathetically.

I get up off her back, laughing, but keep a paw between her shoulder blades. "Ah, Romeo, Romeo, where art thou, huh Goldilocks?"

Chase's sobs reside slightly, and she looks up at me, her red eyes wide and scared. "Your voice. . ."

I raise my eyebrows, but after a moment, lower my mouth to her ear. "You wish you knew."

She gasps. "You. . . YOU!" she thrashes around on the pavement, overtaken by a fresh wave of sobbing. I replace myself on her back, pinning her down.

"Woah, pretty, getting feisty are we? Hey Zane! Animal control over here, pronto!"

Zane, who had been watching from several feet away, steps in, grasping Chase around the waist and tossing her roughly over his shoulder. She's to upset to even resist him. "I got her, Savage. Good job, by the way."

I nod and stand up, stretching. I don't have too many new wounds, thank the Titans, but several of my old ones have split open again. "Christine."

I whirl around. Damian is standing behind me, his eyes wide and worried. "Christine. . ."

I look at him. His worried expression is contagious. "What happened?"

"Christine, it's--it's Hawkeye."