~ { Shadow and Beauty } ~

Hazel, Kiara And Nico

{Percy}

Percy had fought many battles. He'd even fought in a couple of arenas, but nothing like this. In the huge Colosseum, with thousands of cheering ghosts, the god Bacchus staring down at him, and the two twelve-foot giants looming over him, Percy felt as small and insignificant as a bug. He also felt very angry.

Fighting giants was one thing. Bacchus making it into a game was something else. Percy remembered what Luke Castellan had told him years ago, when Percy had come back from his very first quest: Didn't you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics—being pawns of the Olympians?

Percy was almost the same age now as Luke had been then. He could understand how Luke became so spiteful. In the past five years, Percy had been a pawn too many times. The Olympians seemed to take turns using him for their schemes.

Maybe the gods were better than the Titans, or the giants, or Gaea, but that didn't make them good or wise. It didn't make Percy like this stupid arena battle. Unfortunately, he didn't have much choice. If he was going to save his friends, he had to beat these giants. He had to survive and find Annabeth.

Ephialtes and Otis made his decision easier by attacking. Together, the giants picked up a fake mountain as big as Percy's New York apartment and hurled it at the demigods. Percy and Jason bolted. They dove together into the nearest trench and the mountain shattered above them, spraying them with plaster shrapnel. It wasn't deadly, but it stung like crazy.

The crowd jeered and shouted for blood. "Fight! Fight!"

"I'll take Otis again?" Jason called over the noise. "Or do you want him this time?"

Percy tried to think. Dividing was the natural course—fighting the giants one-on-one, but that hadn't worked so well last time. It dawned on him that they needed a different strategy. This whole trip, Percy had felt responsible for leading and protecting his friends.

He was sure Jason felt the same way. They'd worked in small groups, hoping that would be safer. They'd fought as individuals, each demigod doing what he or she did best. But Hera had made them a team of seven for a reason. The few times Percy and Jason had worked together—summoning the storm at Fort Sumter, helping the Argo II escape the Pillars of Hercules, even filling the nymphaeum—Percy had felt more confident, better able to figure out problems, as if he'd been a Cyclops his whole life and suddenly woke up with two eyes.

"We attack together," he said. "Otis first, because he's weaker. Take him out quickly and move to Ephialtes. Bronze and gold together—maybe that'll keep them from re-forming a little longer."

Jason smiled dryly, like he'd just found out he would die in an embarrassing way.

"Why not?" he agreed. "But Ephialtes isn't going to stand there and wait while we kill his brother. Unless—"

"Good wind today," Percy offered. "And there're some water pipes running under the arena."

Jason understood immediately. He laughed, and Percy felt a spark of friendship. This guy thought the same way he did about a lot of things.

"On three?" Jason said.

"Why wait?"

They charged out of the trench. As Percy suspected, the twins had lifted another plaster mountain and were waiting for a clear shot. The giants raised it above their heads, preparing to throw, and Percy caused a water pipe to burst at their feet, shaking the floor. Jason sent a blast of wind against Ephialtes's chest. The purple-haired giant toppled backward and Otis lost his grip on the mountain, which promptly collapsed on top of his brother. Only Ephialtes's snake feet stuck out, darting their heads around, as if wondering where the rest of their body had gone.