Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Demigod Files Read Online Free PDF Page B

said.
    And she started to splice together the celestial bronze wires.
    It took a long time. Too long.
    I figured Capture the Flag had to be over by now. I wondered how soon the other campers would realize we were missing and come looking for us. If Annabeth’s calculations were correct (and they always were), Beckendorf probably had five or ten minutes left before the ants got him.
    Finally Annabeth stood up and exhaled. Her hands were scraped and muddy. Her fingernails were wrecked. She had a brown streak across her forehead where the dragon had decided to spit grease at her.
    “All right,” she said. “It’s done, I think. . . .”
    “You think ?” Silena asked.
    “It has to be done,” I said. “We’re out of time. How do you, uh, start it? Is there an ignition switch or something?”
    Annabeth pointed to its ruby eyes. “Those turn clockwise. I’m guessing we rotate them.”
    “If somebody twisted my eyeballs, I’d wake up,” I agreed. “What if it goes crazy on us?”
    “Then . . . we’re dead,” Annabeth said.
    “Great,” I said. “I’m psyched.”
    Together we turned the ruby eyes of the dragon. Immediately, they began to glow. Annabeth and I backed up so fast we fell over each other. The dragon’s mouth opened, as if it were testing its jaw. The head turned and looked at us. Steam poured from its ears, and it tried to rise.
    When it found it couldn’t move, the dragon seemed confused. It cocked its head and regarded the dirt. Finally, it realized it was buried. The neck strained once, twice . . . and the center of the crater erupted.
    The dragon pulled itself awkwardly out of the ground, shaking clumps of mud from its body the way a dog might, splattering us from head to toe. The automaton was so awesome, none of us could speak. I mean, sure it needed a trip through the car wash, and there were a few loose wires sticking out here and there, but the dragon’s body was amazing—like a high-tech tank with legs. Its sides were plated with bronze and gold scales, encrusted with gemstones. Its legs were the size of tree trunks, and its feet had steel talons. It had no wings—most Greek dragons don’t—but its tail was at least as long as its main body, which was the size of a school bus. The neck creaked and popped as it turned its head to the sky and blew a column of triumphant fire.
    “Well . . .” I said in a small voice. “It still works.”
    Unfortunately, it heard me. Those ruby eyes zeroed in on me, and it stuck its snout two inches from my face. Instinctively, I reached for my sword.
    “Dragon, stop!” Silena yelled. I was amazed her voice still worked. She spoke with such command that the automaton turned its attention to her.
    Silena swallowed nervously. “We’ve woken you to defend the camp. You remember? That is your job!”
    The dragon tilted its head as if it were thinking. I figured Silena had about a fifty-fifty chance of getting blasted with fire. I was considering jumping on the thing’s neck to distract it, when Silena said, “Charles Beckendorf, a son of Hephaestus, is in trouble. The Myrmekes have taken him. He needs your help.”
    At the word Hephaestus , the dragon’s neck straightened. A shiver rippled through its metal body, throwing a new shower of mud clods all over us.
    The dragon looked around, as if trying to find an enemy.
    “We have to show it,” Annabeth said. “Come on, dragon! This way to the son of Hephaestus! Follow us!”
    Just like that, she drew her sword, and the three of us climbed out of the pit.
    “For Hephaestus!” Annabeth yelled, which was a nice touch. We charged through the woods. When I looked behind us, the bronze dragon was right on our tail, its red eyes glowing and steam coming out its nostrils.
    It was good incentive to keep running fast as we headed for the Ant Hill.
    When we got to the clearing, the dragon seemed to catch Beckendorf’s scent. It barreled ahead of us, and we had to jump out of its way to avoid getting