Percy Jackson and the Bronze Dragon

  Percy Jackson and the Bronze Dragon

  By Rick Riordan

  —For Patrick on his tenth birthday

  One dragon can ruin your whole day.

  Trust me, as a demigod I've had my share of bad experiences. I've been snapped at, clawed at, blowtorched, and poisoned. I've fought single-headed dragons, double-headed, eight-headed, nine-headed, and the kind with so many heads that if you stopped to count them you'd be pretty much dead.

  But that time with the bronze dragon? I thought for sure my friends and I were going to end up as Kibbles 'n' Dragon Bits.

  The evening started simply enough.

  It was the end of June. I'd come back from my most recent quest about two weeks before, and life at Camp Half-Blood was returning to normal. Satyrs were chasing the dryads. Monsters howled in the woods. The campers were playing pranks on one another, and our camp director, Dionysus, was turning anyone who misbehaved into a shrub. Typical summer-camp stuff.

  After dinner, all the campers were hanging out at the dining pavilion. We were all excited because tonight's capture-the-flag was going to be totally vicious.

  The night before, Hephaestus's cabin had pulled off a huge upset. They'd captured the flag from Ares—with my help, thank you very much—which meant that tonight the Ares cabin would be out for blood. Well... they're always out for blood, but tonight especially.

  On the blue team were Hephaestus's cabin, Apollo, Hermes, and me—the only demigod in Poseidon's cabin. The bad news was that for once, Athena and Ares—both war god cabins—were against us on the red team, along with Aphrodite, Dionysus, and Demeter. Athena's cabin held the other flag, and my friend Annabeth was their captain.

  Annabeth is not somebody you want as an enemy.

  Right before the game, she strolled up to me. "Hey, seaweed brain."

  "Will you stop calling me that?"

  She knows I hate that name, mostly because I never have a good comeback. She's the daughter of Athena, which doesn't give me a lot of ammunition. I mean,Owl-head and Wise Girl are kind of lame insults.

  "You know you love it." She bumped me with her shoulder, which I guess was supposed to be friendly, but she was wearing full Greek armor, so it kind of hurt. Her gray eyes sparkled under the helmet. Her blond ponytail curled around one shoulder. It was hard for anyone to look cute in combat armor, but Annabeth pulled it off.

  "Tell you what." She lowered her voice. "We're going to crush you tonight, but if you pick a safe position—like right flank, for instance—I'll make sure you don't get pulverized too much."

  "Gee, thanks," I said, "but I'm playing to win."

  She smiled. "See you on the battlefield."

  She jogged back to her teammates, who all laughed and gave her highfives. I'd never seen her so happy, like the chance to beat me up was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

  Beckendorf walked up with his helmet under his arm. "She likes you, man."

  "Sure," I muttered. "She likes me for target practice."

  "Nah, they always do that. A girl starts trying to kill you, you know she's into you."

  "Makes a lot of sense."

  Beckendorf shrugged. "I know about these things. You ought to ask her to the fireworks."

  I couldn't tell if he was serious. Beckendorf was lead counselor for Hephaestus. He was this huge African American dude with a permanent scowl, muscles like a pro ballplayer, and hands calloused from working in the forges his whole life. He'd just turned eighteen and was on his way to NYU in the fall. Since he was older, I usually listened to him about stuff, but the idea of asking Annabeth to the Fourth of July fireworks down at the beach—like, the biggest dating event of the summer—made my stomach do somersaults.

  Then Silena Beauregard, the head counselor for Aphrodite, passed by. Beckendorf had had a not-so-secret crush on her for three years. She had long black hair and big brown eyes, and when she walked, the guys tended to watch. She said, "Good luck, Charlie." (Nobody ever calls Beckendorf by his first name.) She flashed him a brilliant smile and went to join Annabeth on the red team.

  "Uh..." Beckendorf swallowed like he'd forgotten how to breathe.

  I patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks for the advice, dude. Glad you're so wise about girls and all. Come on. Let's get to the woods."

  Naturally, Beckendorf and I took the most dangerous job.

  While the Apollo cabin played defense with their bows, the Hermes cabin would charge up the middle of the woods to distract the enemy. Meanwhile, Beckendorf and I would scout around the left flank, locate the enemy's flag, knock out the defenders, and get the flag back to our side. Simple.

  Why the left flank?

  "Because Annabeth wanted me to go right," I told Beckendorf, "which means she doesn't want us to go left."

  Beckendorf nodded. "Let's suit up."

  He'd been working on a secret weapon for the two of us: bronze chameleon armor, enchanted to blend into the background. If we stood in front of rocks, our breastplates, helms, and shields turned gray. If we stood in front of bushes, the metal changed to a leafy green. It wasn't true invisibility, but we'd have pretty good cover, at least from a distance.

  "This stuff took forever to forge," Beckendorf warned me. "Don't mess it up!"

  "You got it, Captain."

  Beckendorf grunted. I could tell he liked being called captain. The rest of the Hephaestus campers wished us well, and we sneaked off into the woods, immediately turning brown and green to match the trees.

  We crossed the creek that served as the boundary between the teams. We heard fighting in the distance: swords clashing against shields. I glimpsed a flash of light from some magical weapon, but we saw no one.

  "No border guards?" Beckendorf whispered. "Weird."

  "Overconfident," I guessed. But I felt uneasy. Annabeth was a great strategist. It wasn't like her to get sloppy on defense, even if her team did outnumber us.

  We moved into enemy territory. I knew we had to hurry, because our team was playing a defensive game, and that couldn't last forever. The Apollo kids would get overrun sooner or later. The Ares cabin wouldn't be slowed down by a little thing like arrows.

  We crept along the base of an oak tree. Suddenly, a girl's face emerged from the trunk. "Shoo!" she said, then faded back into the bark.

  "Dryads," Beckendorf grumbled. "So touchy."

  "Am not!" a muffled voice said from the tree.

  We kept moving. It was hard to tell exactly where we were. Some landmarks stood out, like the creek and certain cliffs and some really old trees, but the woods tended to shift around. I guess the nature spirits got restless. Paths changed. Trees moved.

  Then, suddenly, we were at the edge of a clearing. I knew we were in trouble when I saw the mountain of dirt.

  "Holy Hephaestus," Beckendorf whispered. "The Ant Hill."

  I wanted to back up and run. I'd never seen the Ant Hill before, but I'd heard stories from the older campers. The mound rose almost to the treetops—four stories at least. Its sides were riddled with tunnels, and crawling in and out were thousands of...

  "Myrmekes," I muttered.

  That's Ancient Greek for ants, but these things were way more than that. They would've given any exterminator a heart attack.

  The Myrmekes were the size of German shepherds. Their armored shells glistened bloodred. Their eyes were beady black, and their razor-sharp mandibles sliced and snapped. Some carried tree branches. Some carried chunks of raw meat that I really didn't want to know about. Most carried bits of metal—old armor, swords, food platters that had somehow found their way out here from the dining pavilion. One ant was dragging the glossy black hood of a sports car.

  "They love sh
iny metal," Beckendorf whispered. "Especially gold. I've heard they have more gold in their nest than Fort Knox."

  He sounded envious.

  "Don't even think about it," I said.

  "Dude, I won't," he promised. "Let's get out of here while we..."

  His eyes widened.

  Fifty feet away, two ants were struggling to drag a big hunk of metal toward their nest. The thing was the size of a refrigerator. It was all glittery gold and bronze, with weird bumps and ridges down the side and a bunch of wires sticking out the bottom. Then the ants rolled the thing over, and I saw its face.

  I just about jumped out of my skin. "That's a—"

  "Shhh!" Beckendorf pulled me back into the bushes.

  "But that's a—"

  "Dragon's head," he said in awe. "Yes. I see it."

  The snout was as long as my body. The mouth hung open, showing metal teeth, like a shark's. Its skin was a combination of gold and bronze scales, and its eyes were rubies as big as my fists. The head looked like it had been hacked from its body—chewed by ant mandibles. The wires were frayed and tangled.

  The head must've been heavy, too, because the ants were struggling, moving it only a few inches with every tug.

  "If they get it to the hill," Beckendorf said, "the other ants will help them. We've got to stop them."

  "What?" I asked. "Why?"

  "It's a sign from Hephaestus. Come on!"

  I didn't know what he was talking about, but I'd never seen Beckendorf look so determined. He sprinted along the edge of the clearing, his armor blending into the trees.

  I was about to follow when something sharp and cold pressed against my neck.

  "Surprise," Annabeth said, right next me. She must've had her magic Yankees cap on, because she was totally invisible.

  I tried to move, but she dug her knife under my chin. Silena appeared out of the woods, her sword drawn. Her Aphrodite armor was pink and red, color-coordinated to match her clothes and makeup. She looked like Guerilla Warfare Barbie.

  "Nice work," she told Annabeth.

  An invisible hand confiscated my sword. Annabeth took off her cap and appeared before me, smiling smugly. "Boys are easy to follow. They make more noise than a lovesick Minotaur."

  My face felt hot. I tried to think back, hoping I hadn't said anything embarrassing. No telling how long Annabeth and Silena had been eavesdropping.

  "You're our prisoner," Annabeth announced. "Let's get Beckendorf and—"

  "Beckendorf!" For a split second I'd forgotten about him, but he was still forging ahead,straight toward the dragon's head. He was already forty feet away. He hadn't noticed the girls, or the fact that I wasn't behind him.

  "Come on!" I told Annabeth.

  She pulled me back. "Where do you think you're going, prisoner?"

  "Look!"

  She peered into the clearing and for the first time seemed to realize where we were. "Oh, Zeus..."

  Beckendorf leaped into the open and struck one of the ants. His sword clanged off the thing's carapace. The ant turned, snapping its pincers. Before I could even call out, the ant bit Beckendorf's leg, and he crumpled to the ground. The second ant sprayed goo in his face, and Beckendorf screamed. He dropped his sword and slapped wildly at his own eyes.

  I surged forward, but Annabeth pulled me back. "No."

  "Charlie!" Silena yelled.

  "Don't!" Annabeth hissed. "It's already too late!"

  "What are you talking about?" I demanded. "We have to—"

  Then I noticed more ants swarming toward Beckendorf—ten, twenty. They grabbed him by the armor and dragged him toward the hill so fast he was swept into a tunnel and gone.

  "No!" Silena pushed Annabeth. "You let them take Charlie!"

  "There's no time to argue," Annabeth said. "Come on!"

  I thought she was going to lead us on a charge to save Beckendorf, but instead she raced to the dragon's head, which the ants had momentarily forgotten. She grabbed it by the wires and started dragging it toward the woods.

  "What are you doing?"I demanded. "Beckendorf—"

  "Help me," Annabeth grunted. "Quick, before they get back."

  "Oh, my gods!" Silena said. "You're more worried about this hunk of metal than Charlie?"

  Annabeth spun around and shook her by the shoulders. "Listen, Silena! Those are Myrmekes. They're like fire ants, only a hundred times worse. They bite poison. They spray acid. They communicate with all the other ants and swarm anything that threatens them. If we'd rushed in there to help Beckendorf, we would have been dragged inside, too. We're going to need help—a lot of help—to get him back. Now, grab some wires and pull!"

  I didn't know what Annabeth was up to, but I'd adventured with her long enough to figure she had a good reason. The three of us tugged the metal dragon's head into the woods. Annabeth didn't let us stop until we were fifty yards from the clearing. Then we collapsed, sweating and breathing hard.

  Silena started to cry. "He's probably dead already."

  "No," Annabeth said. "They won't kill him right away. We've got about half an hour."

  "How do you know that?" I asked.

  "I've read about the Myrmekes. They paralyze their prey so they can soften them up before—"

  Silena sobbed. "We have to save him!"

  "Silena," Annabeth said. "We're going to save him, but I need you to get a grip. There is a way."

  "Call the other campers," I said, "or Chiron. Chiron will know what to do."

  Annabeth shook her head. "They're scattered all over the woods. By the time we got everyone back here, it would be too late. Besides, the entire camp wouldn't be strong enough to invade the Ant Hill."

  "Then what?"

  She pointed at the dragon's head.

  "Okay," I said. "You're going to scare the ants with a big metal puppet?"

  "It's an automaton," she said.

  That didn't make me feel any better. Automatons were magical bronze robots made by Hephaestus. Most of them were crazed killing machines, and those were the nice ones.

  "So what?" I said. "It's just a head. It's broken."

  "Percy, this isn't just any automaton," Annabeth said. "It's the bronze dragon. Haven't you heard the stories?"

  I stared at her blankly. Annabeth had been at camp a lot longer than I had. She probably knew tons of stories I didn't.

  Silena's eyes widened. "You mean the old guardian? But that's just a legend!"

  "Whoa," I said. "What old guardian?"

  Annabeth took a deep breath. "Percy, in the days before Thalia's tree—back before the camp had magical boundaries to keep out monsters—the counselors tried all sorts of different ways to protect themselves. The most famous was the bronze dragon. The Hephaestus cabin made it with the blessing of their father. Supposedly, it was so fierce and powerful that it kept the camp safe for over a decade. And then... about fifteen years ago, it disappeared into the woods."

  "And you think this is its head?"

  "It has to be! The Myrmekes probably dug it up while they were looking for precious metal. They couldn't move the whole thing, so they chewed off the head. The body can't be far away."

  "But they chewed it apart. It's useless."

  "Not necessarily." Annabeth's eyes narrowed, and I could tell her brain was working overtime. "We could reassemble it. If we could activate it—"

  "It could help us rescue Charlie!" Silena said.

  "Hold up," I said. "That's a lot of ifs. If we find it, if we can reactivate it in time, if it will help us. You said this thing disappeared fifteen years ago?"

  Annabeth nodded. "Some say its motor wore out so it went into the woods to deactivate itself. Or its programming went haywire. No one knows."

  "You want to reassemble a haywire metal dragon?"

  "We have to try!" Annabeth said. "It's Beckendorf's only hope! Besides, this could be a sign from Hephaestus. The dragon should want to help one of Hephaestus's kids. Beckendorf would want us to try."

  I didn't like the idea. On the
other hand, I didn't have any better suggestions. We were running out of time, and Silena looked like she was about to go into shock if we didn't do something soon. Beckendorf had said something about a sign from Hephaestus. Maybe it was time to find out.

  "All right," I said. "Let's go find a headless dragon."

  We searched forever,or maybe it just seemed that way, because the whole time, I was imagining Beckendorf in the Ant Hill, scared and paralyzed while a bunch of armored critters scuttled around him, waiting for him to be tenderized.

  It wasn't hard to follow the ants' trail. They'd dragged the dragon's head through the forest, making a deep rut in the mud, and we dragged the head right back the way they'd come.

  We must've gone a quarter of a mile—and I was getting worried about our time—when Annabeth said, "Di immortalis."

  We'd come to the rim of a crater—like something had blasted a house-size hole in the forest floor. The sides were slippery and dotted with tree roots. Ant tracks led to the bottom, where a large metal mound glinted through the dirt. Wires stuck up from a bronze stump on one end.

  "The dragon's neck," I said. "You think the ants made this crater?"

  Annabeth shook her head. "Looks more like a meteor blast...."

  "Hephaestus," Silena said. "The god must've unearthed this. He wanted us to find the dragon. He wanted Charlie to..." She choked up.

  "Come on," I said. "Let's reconnect this bad boy."

  Getting the dragon's head to the bottom was easy. It tumbled right down the slope and hit the neck with a loud, metallic bonk! Reconnecting it was harder.

  We had no tools and no experience.

  Annabeth fiddled with the wires and cursed in Ancient Greek. "We need Beckendorf. He could do this in seconds."

  "Isn't your mom the goddess of inventors?" I asked.

  Annabeth glared at me. "Yes, but I'm good with ideas. Not mechanics."

  "If I was going to pick one person in the world to reattach my head," I said, "I'd pick you."

  I just blurted it out—to give her confidence, I guess—but immediately I realized it sounded pretty stupid.

  "Awww. . ." Silena sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Percy, that is so sweet!"

  Annabeth blushed. "Shut up, Silena. Hand me your dagger."