Chiron was at the starting line, ready to blow the conch.
“Tyson…” I said.
“Go,” Tyson said. “You will win!”
“I—yeah, okay, big guy. We’ll win this one for you.” I climbed on board the chariot and got into position just as Chiron blew the starting signal.
The horses knew what to do. We shot down the track so fast I would’ve fallen out if my arms hadn’t been wrapped in the leather reins. Annabeth held on tight to the rail. The wheels glided beautifully. We took the first turn a full chariot-length ahead of Clarisse, who was busy trying to fight off a javelin attack from the Stoll brothers in the Hermes chariot.
“We’ve got ’em!” I yelled, but I spoke too soon.
“Incoming!” Annabeth yelled. She threw her first javelin in grappling hook mode, knocking away a lead-weighted net that would have entangled us both. Apollo’s chariot had come up on our flank. Before Annabeth could rearm herself, the Apollo warrior threw a javelin into our right wheel. The javelin shattered, but not before snapping some of our spokes. Our chariot lurched and wobbled. I was sure the wheel would collapse altogether, but we somehow kept going.
I urged the horses to keep up the speed. We were now neck and neck with Apollo. Hephaestus was coming up close behind. Ares and Hermes were falling behind, riding side by side as Clarisse went sword-on-javelin with Connor Stoll.
If we took one more hit to our wheel, I knew we would capsize.
“You’re mine!” the driver from Apollo yelled. He was a first-year camper. I didn’t remember his name, but he sure was confident.
“Yeah, right!” Annabeth yelled back.
She picked up her second javelin—a real risk considering we still had one full lap to go—and threw it at the Apollo driver.
Her aim was perfect. The javelin grew a heavy spear point just as it caught the driver in the chest, knocking him against his teammate and sending them both toppling out of their chariot in a backward somersault. The horses felt the reins go slack and went crazy, riding straight for the crowd. Campers scrambled for cover as the horses leaped the corner of the bleachers and the golden chariot flipped over. The horses galloped back toward their stable, dragging the upside-down chariot behind them.
I held our own chariot together through the second turn, despite the groaning of the right wheel. We passed the starting line and thundered into our final lap.
The axle creaked and moaned. The wobbling wheel was making us lose speed, even though the horses were responding to my every command, running like a well-oiled machine.
The Hephaestus team was still gaining.
Beckendorf grinned as he pressed a button on his command console. Steel cables shot out of the front of his mechanical horses, wrapping around our back rail. Our chariot shuddered as Beckendorf’s winch system started working—pulling us backward while Beckendorf pulled himself forward.
Annabeth cursed and drew her knife. She hacked at the cables but they were too thick.
“Can’t cut them!” she yelled.
The Hephaestus chariot was now dangerously close, their horses about to trample us underfoot.
“Switch with me!” I told Annabeth. “Take the reins!”
“But—”
“Trust me!”
She pulled herself to the front and grabbed the reins. I turned, trying hard to keep my footing, and uncapped Riptide.
I slashed down and the cables snapped like kite string. We lurched forward, but Beckendorf’s driver just swung his chariot to our left and pulled up next to us. Beckendorf drew his sword. He slashed at Annabeth, and I parried the blade away.
We were coming up on the last turn. We’d never make it. I needed to disable the Hephaestus chariot and get it out of the way, but I had to protect Annabeth, too. Just because Beckendorf was a nice guy didn’t mean he wouldn’t send us both to the infirmary if we let our guard down.
We were neck and neck now, Clarisse coming up from behind, making up for lost time.
“See ya, Percy!” Beckendorf yelled. “Here’s a little parting gift!”
He threw a leather pouch into our chariot. It stuck to the floor immediately and began billowing green smoke.
“Greek fire!” Annabeth yelled.
