‘Oh … my brother cast an invisibility spell once. Didn’t work out so well. Anyway, good luck.’
‘You, too.’
Annabeth dashed to one side as Sadie waved her arms and yelled, ‘Oi, Serapis!’
‘DEATH TO YOU!’ the god bellowed.
He barrelled forward, his massive feet making craters in the tarmac.
As they’d planned, Sadie backed towards the beach. Annabeth crouched behind an abandoned car and waited for Serapis to pass. Invisible or not, she wasn’t going to take any chances.
‘Come on!’ Sadie taunted the god. ‘Is that the fastest you can run, you overgrown village idiot?’
‘RAR!’ The god charged past Annabeth’s position.
She ran after Serapis, who caught up with Sadie at the edge of the surf.
The god raised his glowing staff, all three monstrous heads belching steam. ‘Any last words, magician?’
‘For you? Yes!’ Sadie whirled her arms in movements that could’ve been magic – or possibly kung fu.
‘Meana aedei thea!’ She chanted the lines Annabeth had taught her. ‘En … ponte pathen algae!’
Annabeth winced. Sadie’s pronunciation was pretty bad. She’d got the first line right, more or less: Sing of rage, O goddess. But the second line should’ve been: In the sea, suffer misery. Instead, Sadie had said something like: In the sea, suffer moss!
Fortunately, the sound of Ancient Greek was enough to shock Serapis. The god wavered, his three-headed staff still raised. ‘What are you –’
‘Isis, hear me!’ Sadie continued. ‘Athena, to my aid!’ She rattled off some more phrases – some Greek, some Ancient Egyptian.
Meanwhile, Annabeth sneaked up behind the god, her eyes on the dagger still impaled in the monster’s shell. If Serapis would just lower his staff …
‘Alpha, beta, gamma!’ Sadie cried. ‘Gyros, spanakopita. Presto!’ She beamed in triumph. ‘There. You’re done for!’
Serapis stared at her, clearly baffled. The red tattoos on his skin dimmed. A few of the symbols turned into question marks and sad faces. Annabeth crept closer … twenty feet from him now.
‘Done for?’ Serapis asked. ‘What on earth are you talking about, girl? I’m about to destroy you.’
‘And if you do,’ Sadie warned, ‘you will activate the death link that sends you to oblivion!’
‘Death link? There is no such thing!’ Serapis lowered his staff. The three animal heads were level with Annabeth’s eyes.
Her heart pounded. Ten feet to go. Then, if she jumped, she might be able to reach the dagger. She’d only have one chance to pull it out.
The heads of the staff didn’t seem to notice her. They snarled and snapped, spitting steam in random directions. Wolf, lion, dog – past, present and future.
To do maximum damage, she knew which head she had to strike.
But why did the future have to be a dog? That black Labrador was the least threatening of the monster heads. With its big gold eyes and floppy ears, it reminded Annabeth of too many friendly pets she’d known.
It’s not a real animal, she told herself. It’s part of a magical staff.
But,
as she got within striking distance, her arms grew heavy. She couldn’t look at the dog without feeling guilty.
The future is a good thing, the dog seemed to say. It’s cute and fuzzy!
If Annabeth struck at the Labrador’s head, what if she killed her own future – the plans she had for college, the plans she’d made with Percy … ?