After escaping the hunters' sulfur trap, Annabeth headed towards the northern side of the woods in an attempt to link up with her team. Battered as she was, she could still fight and she knew that Camp Half-Blood would need every man they could get to repel the hunters' assault. But caution and the burning pain in her lungs made progress slow. The hunters were expert trackers and the last thing she wanted was to be caught again after escaping the trap.
The conch horn sounded before she could reach the creek, signalling the end of the game. Annabeth flexed her jaw unhappily, then altered her course to head south out of the woods. It was maddening not knowing who had won, but she consoled herself with the thought that no one could withstand Nico di Angelo.
She was almost to the edge of the woods when two young hunters emerged from the undergrowth to her right. The girls looked battered and tired, but their eyes lit up when they saw her.
"You're Annabeth," one recognised her.
"What're you doing here?" the second hunter asked. "The game's been over for hours."
"Seriously?" Annabeth blinked up at the sky, which had gone dark. "I heard the conch horn. I must have lost track of time. I can't move very quickly." She shuffled a couple of steps to show them.
"We're looking for some of our missing sisters," the second hunter said. "But we can help you back if you like."
Annabeth nodded, too tired to respond.
The girls, who both looked around nine, took her elbows. The three of them started off, moving slowly because of Annabeth.
A succession of snapping, tearing noises reached their ears, coming from somewhere to their left. Something was crashing through the forest, moving fast. Annabeth's ears pricked.
"Deer," a hunter guessed. "We see them all the time. It's like they're drawn to us."
The crashing noises came closer. "It'll probably come and say hello," the second hunter smiled.
Something felt wrong. Annabeth shook her head. "There are no deer in this forest." She stopped walking and fumbled for her weapons.
"What's wrong?" the hunters seemed oblivious. "Come on, the campfire's right there."
"Something's coming," Annabeth's heart started to speed up. "Get ready, we have to—"
The creature burst into view in a blur of black. Annabeth ducked and thrust out her drakon-bone sword even before her mind fully registered the threat, simultaneously throwing her dagger in a single, practiced motion. The two hunters were frozen to the spot. One loosed a short scream.
A hot wind gusted over Annabeth's head. A quiver went through her sword as it plunged into the unseen creature, then the blade was pulled from her grasp as the creature passed over her. A howl ripped through the forest.
The dull thud of a heavy impact came from behind her, immediately followed by a series of crashing noises as the monster tumbled into the undergrowth.
Annabeth shoulder-rolled forward and sprang to her feet, all the tiredness gone. She spun around, eyes scanning for her weapons.
She didn't need them. The hellhound dissolved, melting into shadows before her eyes. Her sword and dagger, which had pierced the monster's chest and shoulder, fell from the hellhound's vanishing body onto the forest floor. Annabeth's shoulders sagged as the tension went out of her, hissing a sigh of relief. She looked around for the two hunters, but they seemed to have vanished.
"It's okay," she called, almost doubling over as pain ignited in her lungs. "It's dead."
No one replied. Annabeth started to shuffle around, wondering if the girls had dived into the nearby bushes.
A glint of silver caught her eye, the moonlight reflecting off the hilt of a knife. The source was far in the undergrowth and it took Annabeth some time to reach it, pushing aside branches and ferns. Then she caught sight of the girl and her breath left her.
The hunter's neck lay at an unnatural angle. Her limbs were sprawled on the forest floor, spattered with dirt from the puddle of mud she was lying in. Her chest was wet and dark, glistening ribs showing through her shredded silver vest. She had a surprised look on her face that was already turning pale.
"Oh, no." Annabeth shuffled closer to have a better look. "No, no, no."
Her foot bumped into something. Annabeth looked down and gagged when she realised it was the severed head of the second hunter. She spund around and threw up into the dirt, even though her stomach was completely empty. Gasping hard from a mixture of pain and lack of air, she wiped her mouth as she straightened.
Through the trees she could see that the campfire was just beginning. Campers lined marshmallows around the blazing flame, singing loudly at the top of their lungs. Everyone was celebrating the massive victory.
Annabeth sheathed her knife, still covered in hellhound blood. Grimly, she started towards the flickering fire light. The celebrations were about to end.
How will the hunters react? Who's responsible? Find out (some of it) in the next chapter! As always, thanks for the views!