The last olmpian

"On second thought," Rachel said in a small voice, "I'll be inside." *** Let me explain: there are dragons, and then there are drakons.

Drakons are several millennia older than dragons, and much larger.

They look like giant serpents. Most don't have wings. Most don't breathe fire (though some do). All are poisonous. All are immensely strong, with scales harder than titanium. Their eyes can paralyze you; not the turn-you~to-stone Medusa-type paralysis, but the oh~my~gods-that~big~snake~is~going~to~eat~me type of paralysis, which is just as bad.

We have drakon-fighting classes at camp, but there is no way to prepare yourself for a two-hundred-foot-long serpent as thick as a school bus slithering down the side of a building, its yellow eyes like searchlights and its mouth full of razor-sharp teeth big enough to chew elephants.

It almost made me long for the flying pig.

Meanwhile, the enemy army advanced down Fifth Avenue. We'd done our best to push cars out of the way to keep the mortals safe, but that just made it easier for our enemies to approach. The Party Ponies swished their tails nervously. Chiron galloped up and down their ranks, shouting encouragement to stand tough and think about victory and root beer, but I figured any second they would panic and run.

"I'll take the drakon." My voice came out as a timid squeak. Then I yelled louder: "I'LL TAKE THE DRAKON! Everyone else, hold the line against the army!"

Annabeth stood next to me. She had pulled her owl helmet low over her face, but I could tell her eyes were red.