Chapter Thirty Four - Canonball!

"Are you ready to fight me now?" I asked, keeping my breathing steady as I turned to face Ares. "Or are you just going to hide behind another pet?"

Ares's face was purple with rage. "Watch it, kid. I could turn you into-"

"A cockroach?" I interrupted. "Yeah, I'm sure. That'd certainly save you from getting your godly ass whipped by a little girl, wouldn't it?"

Ares sneered as he pulled a metal baseball bat from a sheath attached to his motorcycle. "Alright, punk. How would you like to get smashed; classic or modern?"

I crouched down into a fighting stance, my knife held at the ready.

"Guess they call 'em classics for a reason. Alright, I'm really gonna enjoy wipin' that head off of your stupid face," Ares said with a twisted grin as his baseball bat shifted into a large, two handed sword. The celestial bronze blade, which was almost as long as I was tall, pulsed red with barely restrained godly power.

"Nice sword," I said. "It's certainly big enough. Think maybe you're compensating for something?"

"I've been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"

"A bigger dick?" I grinned. Did I just say that out loud?

"Penelope!"

"Penny!"

Guess so. With an inarticulate scream of rage, the god swung his sword in an overhead arc with the intention of splitting me in half like a log but I had already moved. With a burst of flames from my feet, I catapulted over him into the air, slashing with my knife as I came down. Unfortunately, Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should've caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.

He grinned. "Not bad, not bad."

He slashed again, this time unleashing a blast of energy that I only narrowly avoided by rolling to the ground. I tried to stand, but Ares outmaneuvered me - pressing so hard I had to put all my concentration on not getting sliced into pieces. With a careless flick of his blade, he sent another blast of explosive force toward me. I rolled away, using the momentum to get back to my feet.

"What's the matter, girl?" He sneered. "You done crawling around on the ground and ready to actually fight me?"

I grit my teeth in frustration as he laughed. Even if he wasn't the god of war, his weapon had the longer reach. The only way I'd ever manage to land a hit was if I could get in close. My only saving grace at this point was that he clearly wasn't taking me seriously as a threat.

I waited until he started to swing again, then stepped inside with a thrust. Of course, Ares was waiting for that. He knocked my blade out of my hands and kicked me in the chest. I went airborne - twenty, maybe thirty feet. I definitely would have broken my back if I was a mortal. As it was, I could feel a bruise forming. I was seeing double. My chest felt like it had just been hit with a battering ram, but I managed to get to my feet.

"Penny!" Grover called. "Cops!"

I couldn't look away from Ares for fear he'd slice me in half, but out of the corner of my eye I saw red lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard. Car doors were slamming.

"There, officer!" somebody yelled. "See?"

"That guy's armed," a cop said.

"No shit," I grumbled, rolling to one side as Ares's blade slashed the sand.

"Call for backup."

I ran for my knife, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares's face, only to find my blade deflected again. Ares seemed to know exactly what I was going to do the moment before I did it.

"Admit it, kid," Ares said. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you."

I could barely hear my heart pounding in my chest over the roar of blood in my ears. My senses were working overtime even as time seemed to slow to a crawl. I was wide awake, noticing every little detail. I could see where Ares was tensing. I could tell which way he would strike.

At the same time, I was aware of Annabeth and Grover, thirty feet to my left. I saw a second cop car pulling up, siren wailing. Spectators, people who had been wandering the streets because of the earthquake, were starting to gather. Among the crowd, I thought I saw a few who were walking with the strange, trotting gait of disguised satyrs. There were shimmering forms of spirits, too, as if the dead had risen from the Underworld to watch the battle. I heard the flap of leathery wings circling somewhere above.

More sirens.

A male voice on a megaphone said in a firm tone; "Drop the guns.' Set them on the ground. Now!"

Guns?

I looked at Ares's weapon, and it seemed to be flickering; sometimes it looked like a shotgun,

sometimes a two-handed sword. I didn't know what the humans were seeing in my hands, but I was pretty sure it wouldn't make them like me. Ares turned to glare at our spectators, which gave me a moment to breathe. There were five police cars now, and a line of officers crouching behind them, pistols trained on us. I bent over, under the pretense of catching my breath, and scooped up a handful of sand.

"This is a private matter!" Ares bellowed. "Be gone.'"

He swept his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming.

Ares roared with laughter. "Now, little hero. Let's add you to the barbecue."

"I'm not a hero," I said, with a growl. "Just a smartass kid with a big mouth and a hand full of sand!"

I threw the fistful of sand directly into his face, causing him to reel back in shock. Now! Using the opening, I shot forward - only to stumble over myself and land at his feet. I flailed wildly, trying to regain my balance as I crashed, scoring a one in a million lucky stab in the god of war's family pride. Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in the war god's crotch.

The expression on his face was beyond hatred. It was shock, complete disbelief that he'd been wounded. Then the pain kicked in. The roar that followed made Andromeda's earthquake look like a minor event. He began to limp toward me, muttering ancient Greek curses.

And then, something stopped him. It was as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing, and making me feel like life was hopeless, fighting was useless. A moment later, the darkness lifted. Ares lowered his sword.

"You have made an enemy, godling," he told me. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Penelope Jackson. Beware."

His body began to glow.

"Penny!" Andromeda shouted. "Look away!"

I turned away, closing my eyes tight as the god of war revealed his true immortal form. I knew well enough that if I looked, I would disintegrate into ashes - and no amount of pyrokinesis would save me from that. The light faded, and I opened my eyes again. Police cars were burning behind us. The crowd of spectators had fled. Annabeth, Andromeda and Grover stood on the beach, in shock.

Ares was gone, leaving his motorcycle behind. I grabbed the helmet off the handlebars and walked toward my friends. But before I got there, I heard the flapping of leathery wings. The demonic grandma biker gang drifted down from the sky and landed in front of me.

The middle Fury, the one who had been Mrs. Dodds, stepped forward. Her fangs were bared, but for once she didn't look threatening. She looked more disappointed, as if she'd been planning to have me for supper, but had decided I might give her indigestion.

"We saw the whole thing," she hissed. "So ... it truly was not you?"

I tossed her the helmet, which she caught in surprise.

"Return that to Lord Hades," I said. "Tell him the truth. Tell him to remember our deal."

"You are a bold one, mortal," the Fury on the right said, throwing my backpack to me. I opened it to see that the master bolt was still there. It was.

Mrs. Dodds hesitated, then ran a forked tongue over her green, leathery lips. "Live well, Penelope Jackson. Become a true hero. Because if you do not, if you ever come into my clutches again..."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, waving her off. Mrs. Dodds and her sisters rose on their bats' wings, fluttered into the smoke-filled sky, and disappeared. My friends came running up to check on me as soon as they were gone.

"Penny..." Grover said. "That was so incredibly..."

"Terrifying," said Annabeth.

"Stupid," Andromeda said.

"Cool!" Grover corrected.

I didn't feel terrified. I certainly didn't feel cool. I was tired and sore and completely drained of energy. Maybe I was a little stupid.

"Did you guys feel that... whatever it was?" I asked.

They all nodded uneasily.

"Must've been the Furies overhead," Grover said.

But I wasn't so sure, and judging by the looks on the other girls' faces, neither were they. Something had stopped Ares from killing me, and whatever could do that was a lot stronger than the Furies. I looked at Annabeth and Andromeda, and an understanding passed between us. I knew now what was in that pit, what had spoken from the entrance of Tartarus.

"We have to get back to New York," I said. "By tonight."

"That's impossible," Annabeth said, "unless we..."

"Fly," Grover gulped with a sideways look at Andromeda.

"No chance," I said, shaking my head. "Even if Andromeda wasn't his niece, I wouldn't trust him not to strike the plane out of the sky just to get his bolt back faster from the wreckage."

"Then what are you suggesting?" Annabeth asked, staring at me intensely.

I smirked, turning slightly to gesture at the motorcycle behind me. The headlight was still on and the engine was idling.

"Oh, no," Annabeth said, her eyes wide as saucers.

"No way," Andromeda agreed. "I'd rather fly. Hell, I'd rather take a boat! Driving the chariot of war is considered a rite of passage for Ares' sons. Only his sons."

"And most of them are killed in the attempt," Annabeth added.

"Well, ma io non sono un uomo vivente! Stai guardando una donna," I grinned, climbing onto the seat of the bike. It was surprisingly comfortable, and more than large enough to sit at least one other. The question of how to seat the other two had barely formed on my lips when a sidecar appeared where the sheath once was. "Well, that's convenient. Come on."

"Oh, we are so going to die," Grover complained, climbing into the sidecar.

"If we don't get to New York, everyone will," Annabeth said, climbing on behind me. "So either we make it, or we beat the rush."

Andromeda looked like she wanted to argue, but bit her lip and climbed in with Grover.

The Cannonball Run is an unsanctioned and illegal speed record challenge for driving across the United States. The route is typically accepted to run from New York City's Red Ball Garage to the Portofino Hotel in Redondo Beach near Los Angeles, covering a distance of about two thousand, nine hundred and six miles. The current record, as of Nineteen Eighty Three, was achieved in just over thirty two hours in a Ferrari. They would have had to achieve an average speed of around eighty-seven miles per hour, not accounting for pit stops.

We were traveling nearly eight times that speed on a motorcycle and I was doing my best to keep the chariot on the road while avoiding traffic. Of course, the motorcycle in question just so happened to be the chariot of the god of war. After a couple of minutes initially spent struggling to control the chariot, I had an epiphany. Andromeda and Annabeth had said driving it was meant to be a test. Maybe control was the wrong answer. Trusting my instincts, I eased up. Almost immediately, the ride became smoother. Soon, all I had to do was steer as the motorcycle practically drove itself.

At our current speed, the mortal's vehicles almost seemed to be standing still. Annabeth had her head buried between my shoulders and her arms wrapped tightly around my waist, holding on for dear life - which definitely didn't make it any easier for me to concentrate on not crashing. Grover had passed out from nerves somewhere around the mid-west and Andromeda was screaming something that I couldn't quite make out. It might have been 'We're going to crash' or 'Go faster'.

Four hours after we left Santa Monica, we arrived at the Empire State Building in New York. I pulled up to the curb and parked the bike. Andromeda scrambled head first out of the sidecar, dragging Grover with her. I almost expected her to start kissing the pavement. Annabeth took a minute longer to unlatch from me before dismounting as well.

"That was insane!" Andromeda shrieked once she'd found her voice. "We could have died. Or worse!"

"Worse?" I asked, then shook my head. "Nevermind, don't want to know. But, hey... We didn't die. And we made it in record time, too."

"You're crazy," Andromeda muttered, turning to Annabeth. "She's crazy."

"What are we going to do about the bike?" Annabeth asked, patting Andromeda on the shoulder.

"Do? What do you mean?" I asked.

"You can't park here," Annabeth said. "It's illegal."

"What are the cops going to do?" I asked. "Give the god of war a parking ticket? Maybe they'll impound it and he'll have to deal with the D.M.V." I admit, that thought tickled me a little. "Come on, we've got a delivery to make."