"Are you sure about this, Clarisse? How do we know this punk knows what he's doing?"
"Don't worry about him, Lance, just follow the plan. Alpha-One, you know that one, right?"
"Of course I do."
"Then let's do our part and let them worry about theirs."
Alpha-One was the Ares cabin's signature battle plan. Often mocked and even used as an insulting term in capture-the-flag for a simplistic, poorly thought out attack, it was one of the first battle plans taught at camp, but quickly became adopted by the God of War's children for obvious reasons. It essentially called for an overwhelming frontal assault designed to take advantage of the superior size and strength of the Ares siblings to completely grind the enemy into dust. What Alpha-One lacked in complexity, it made up for in the intimidation factor and brute force.
Of course it's also what the Titans would be expecting, and they would have planned accordingly. Thus, when Alpha-One was activated, they would launch their ambush. This was when Michael Yew and the elite Apollo archers would pick the exposed Titans apart. Michael was gambling an awful lot on this plan. He knew his archers were the best in camp, but even for an expert, hitting moving targets in a scrum, and avoiding friendly fire, was no easy task. They needed to take out as many as possible before they got too close to Clarisse and her siblings.
Clarisse and the other Ares campers were crouched in their arrayed battle formation while the Apollo archers had been placed strategically around the woods. It was not too dissimilar from the battle plan they'd executed in the battle of the Labyrinth, and it once again made Michael wish that Lee were here now. He certainly could've used his elder half-brother's guidance in dealing with Clarisse and the Ares cabin. But at last it seemed as though things were falling into place.
"One" Michael mouthed silently to the archer standing opposite of him in the far treeline. He observed with heightened nerves as Clarisse and her troops assembled in attack formation just beyond the edge of the wooded area. The plan was a go at any moment,
"Two." The Ares siblings crept closer to the clearing.
"Three." Clarisse looked up and locked eyes with Michael, this was it. A few seconds later, the peaceful countryside of upstate New York became a raging battlefield.
"Ares!" Clarisse bellowed as she rushed out into the clearing, followed closely by her half-siblings in a loose battle formation. At that moment, the two lazing sentries were shocked to see a mass of red rushing towards them and clumsily scrambled to their feet, scattering their mythomagic cards and figurines in the process. In the split second it took for the treacherous half-bloods to raise the alarm, Michael and his fellow archers had set up their firing zones. If the enemy executed the plan Michael was excepting, there would soon be three enveloping prongs attempting to crush the oncoming surge. Sure enough, the doors of the house burst open and a troop of vicious Laistrygonians charged head on towards Clarisse's cabin. At the same moment, Scythian Dracanae began to flank them from the left and right. While Clarisse whirled into action, hacking and stabbing with incredible fury, Michael had been patiently preparing for phase two of the plan.
"All right Cabin Seven, that's our cue, let's make it rain!"
At that instant, with machine-like precision, the Apollo archers began to unleash volley after volley of lethal arrows down upon the unsuspecting monsters. Michael, determined to survive, surrendered himself to the instincts borne of his divine heritage. In the heat of battle, without time to think, without time to fear, it was as if he could guide the arrow every step to the way to its destination. Hitting a moving target was something that even the finest archers struggled to do, let alone doing so whilst avoiding other moving targets, but an Apollo archer could manage that in his sleep.
The archers and warriors also did their best to avoid fatally wounding the traitorous half-bloods - they had once been friends, after all - but in the vicious blur of combat, it was a near-impossible task. It didn't take long for the wings of the enemy formation to be cut down, leaving Clarisse and her cabin mates to deal with the remaining laistrygonians and half-bloods inside the house. Meanwhile, the Apollo campers continued to pick off stragglers, until there were none left. Their task complete, the sons and daughters of Apollo descended from the treetops and rendezvoused around Michael. What awaited them on the ground was absolute carnage. The ashen, smoldering remains of slain monsters, and worse yet, fallen half-bloods.
Michael couldn't help but think back to when he had stood by Lee in his final moments of life. He was now surrounded by yet more horrific death and devastation. Did it even matter whose side they were on? They all bled the same. They had all been good once, even Luke. In the moment, there were no enemy bodies or friendly bodies, there were human beings, half-bloods, dying. The girl lying on the ground just feet away with a near-fatal gash along her chest could just as easily have been Drew. It could've been anybody.
"Okay cabin, clear the area of weapons. Will, tend to them, make sure they're all right."
"Just ours, or…"
Michael looked away, not wanting to show Will the look of anguish on his face. He knew this could be taken as treachery in its own right. "Just tend to them."
"Mike, you're gonna want to take a look at this."
Michael had sent some of his fellow Apollo campers to scout the perimeter, and now one of them, a kid a couple years younger than him named Jack, was calling out to him from several yards away and pointing at something behind the house.
Michael rushed over to where Jack was standing, and it was then that he saw it: a small barn a couple hundred feet away, just large enough to hide a chariot of war. Could the house have been a diversion after all, another trick by his old friend? He should have known. But it seemed pointless to have simply moved the chariot less than a football field away, where it could still be easily captured, unless…
The steadily rising sound of monsters' footsteps in the distance confirmed his worst fears. It was not the Ares cabin, but Kronos' minions in the house who had been the bait, and the campers had walked right into it, this entire thing had been set up from the beginning to separate and weaken them. Now the Titans were sending an overwhelming counterattack to encircle and crush the campers where they stood.
"Clarisse! Clarisse!"
It was no use, they were too caught up in the battle inside the house to realize they'd been had. The more time Michael wasted trying to get her attention the more dire their situation became. He wasn't in command of this mission, but he was the highest ranking half-blood in a position to do something about this. Only one thing could save them now.
Michael and Jack forced open the barn doors, gasping for breath as they beheld their prize: a sturdy golden chariot and two pegasi raring to go. The cost of winning it seemed altogether too steep, but there was no point now in turning down the reward, so they hurried to clamber aboard and set off. For all they knew. their fellow campers might already be in terrible danger.
Children of Apollo are comfortable in most situations, and considering the fact that their father literally drives the Sun through the sky, one would expect flying in a chariot to be no big deal. Yet for Michael Yew, the experience of hurtling through the sky in the small metallic tube, the rush of the winds attempting to blow him off course, drowning out nearly all sound, was both thrilling and terrifying. It's not as if his dad had ever given him the keys to the Sun chariot before. The pegasi cut gracefully through the sky, soaring upwards and circling the barn, seemingly warming up their wings. Then, they dashed towards the house and beyond, and now that they were airborne, Michael could see that there were at least a hundred monsters bearing down on them from the same wooded area as the campers had emerged from earlier.
"Jack, how well can you drive?"
"Uh, well enough…I hope."
"Good," Michael said, handing him the reins. Then he stood up, bow in hand. Clarisse was going to need all the help she could get.
The next several minutes felt like a blur to him, as if he were only an observer of his surroundings, yet not actually in control of his body. He could see the small figures of Will Solace and his fellow campers tending to the wounded and trying to move them into the house, Clarisse and her half-siblings rushing out to help them, their jaws collectively dropping as they laid eyes on the winged chariot for the first time. He was aware of his hands in constant, yet fluid motion, notching arrows and firing at the enemy with a precision he could never achieve in practice. Down below, the tide was turning as the two cabins worked together to thwart the monsters' charge. Soon, ashes and dust was all that was left of them. They'd survived. Against all odds, they'd survived, and the battle was over…for now anyways. Jack guided the chariot down, and it was only once they touched solid ground that the haze over Michael's mind finally seemed to lift.
Even so, it still didn't feel real, not until everyone from both cabins rushed out to see and congratulate Michael and Jack on their daring success. High fives, hugs and cheers were exchanged, spirits were rejuvenated. Although the raid had been hard-fought and had taken its toll, their training and faith in each other had gotten them through, and now there even seemed to be a newfound respect between the two cabins. They had fought shoulder to shoulder and withstood the Titan lord's assault, surely now the war would be theirs. The celebration quickly died down, however, when they became aware of the figure standing in the doorway of the house. They watched Clarisse as she walked up to the chariot last of all, her eyes drinking it in, her hand running along its smooth, golden exterior. She seemed less excited and more relieved at the sight of the object they had all risked their lives for.
"So, this is our prize?"
"Yeah, sure came in handy during that last attack," Michael replied, trying to keep the mood lighthearted.
"Then I guess Annabeth was right, this thing is important to the war effort after all."
"Hey Clarisse," said Lance, the beefy lieutenant of the Ares cabin, "I don't mean to butt in, but why are these two still sitting in our chariot?"
What? Michael thought. It took a moment for him to remember the formal rules of war spoils. But how could anyone think of something so petty at this moment when they were all exhausted, wounded and lucky to even be alive right now? When Clarisse didn't say anything right away, he knew she was really shaken up, she was rarely ever at a loss for words.
Suddenly, she gazed at him with a newfound intensity, and it was then that Michael began to understand. For Clarisse, the battle never truly ended, the battlefield merely shifted. When she wasn't fighting monsters, she was fighting herself, fighting to maintain the image she had built up to others. Fighting her conflicting feelings over falling for a traitor. Fighting because for her, fighting was all she had ever known, it was the only way to survive. In this view of the world, there were two kinds of people: allies and enemies. Up until now, Michael had been able to remain her ally, and he had hoped it could stay that way for at least a while longer, especially after their private conversation earlier, but now they were standing before the entire assembly of both of their cabins, and Clarisse La Rue, daughter of Ares, had a reputation to protect.
"You fought with honor today, Mike, you and the whole sunshine cohort. I gotta admit, I didn't think Apollo had it in 'em. Now that the mission is complete…I think it's only right for the leader of the raid to claim the spoils."
He'd braced himself for this, yet somehow it still left him stunned. Had he been foolish to think that just because they had a nice chat alone, that they were friends now? They had worked out their differences before, so why-
"Now hold on there," Jack shot back in his light southern drawl before Michael could get his words together. "We captured this here chariot, and the spoils go to the victor, do they not?"
"Exactly, as in, to the one who led the victors, and that's Clarisse," retorted Lance.
"Don't bother trying to talk sense to these simpletons," another Apollo camper called out. "You know intelligence isn't exactly one of their strengths."
Lance looked furious enough for steam to be blowing out of his ears. "You wanna get some, pipsqueak?! Show yourself!"
At that moment, both cabins descended into a mass of pushing, grabbing and bickering.
"Stop this, stop!" Will shouted, and now even he sounded angry. "We have wounded who need ambrosia, and we all need to get back to camp before the Titans send more monsters our way."
The mob slowly began to disperse, but it was clear that sentiments were yet simmering, ready to go nuclear at any moment.
"Will is right," Michael agreed, trying to hide his shaking voice. How did he allow this to spiral out of control so quickly? "We can hash this out later, but for now, we need to focus on getting everyone home safely."
"You're dodging the issue, are you going to honor the rules of war and give me the chariot or not?" Clarisse demanded.
Michael paused. The easy thing to do would be to concede, to give Clarisse what she wanted and get on with it. That's probably what he would have done in the past. But right now, he was upset with Clarisse, upset with her for making this all about the prize, for demanding all the glory for herself, like always. Again, maybe it was stupid to think he'd known her better than that. And it had been Jack and he who captured the chariot. They had just as much claim to it as Ares, and he wouldn't be much of a head counselor if he threw his own half-siblings under the bus so quickly.
"No, we captured it, and we're taking it back to camp. When you and I give our report to Chiron, he'll decide who gets it. That's as fair as it can be."
Clarisse grumbled and swore in Ancient Greek under her breath, but said nothing for several moments. Finally, she seemed to concede, at least momentarily. Yet her fiery glare spoke more than words ever could. Whatever progress they had made earlier was absolutely gone now. "Fine. Out of respect for what your cabin did today, I'll let it slide for now. But this isn't over, Mike. You know who should rightfully have that chariot. You'll regret making a fool of the Ares cabin."
At the moment, Michael didn't care about the chariot, or the battle they had just fought, or of any of his supposed heroics. Right now, he couldn't even stand to face Drew after what had just happened. Lee would have known what to say, he would have found a solution that would have prevented tensions from boiling over. He had always made it look so easy, but only now did Michael understand just how difficult it really was, how far he was from being the leader his siblings deserved. One thing was for sure, not even this flying chariot was going to help them defeat the Titans if they went to war with each other first.
"Gods help us all…"