XIV: Why I'm Not A Dog Person

The Thessalian Bullhound was a hound the size of a bull, with teeth made of solid titanium that could rip open any armor and chew them to shreds – alongside with the person in them. The paws weren't exactly paws, but more hooves. Its hide wasn't impenetrable like the Nemean Lion's: the problem was the fur. 

Every single hair was hardened, protecting the animal like an armor. To add insult to injury, there was no way to get past that, the thick fur covered almost every inch of its body besides its mouth. Most blades didn't cut through its fur, so the animals of that kind rarely met their demise through the edge of a blade. 

Only when the gods favored the demigods and gifted them enough wind to get the beast's heavy fur to lift, exposing the soft and frail skin, would a mortal be honored with being able to claim having slain a Thessalian Bullhound with their sword. More regularly, demigods defeated them by tricking them: getting them to drown, fall, or burn. 

That was the monster staring us down from the abandoned tunnel Connor had mentioned when we came into the park. It growled threateningly, baring its fangs and sniffing the air for our half-godly scent. The only thing that provided us a slight chance of survival was their terrible eyesight. Its pupils looked like they'd been coated with a layer of white icing, blinded upon birth.  However, its ears spiked up, turning quickly to every sound. 

The smell of danger punched my brain repeatedly, like a wave of acid, over and over. A siren blared in my ears, raising every hair on my skin. 

Connor and I were crouched on the floor, some dozens of paces from the tunnel. I put my index to my lips, as I tossed him his sword and reached for the lighter. I hadn't brought my knives or the dagger, they laid still on my bed. Not that it would have any special use in this situation anyway. 

I held the lighter tightly, but didn't flick it open, in fear the sound of the blade cutting through air would draw the animal's attention. Without making a sound, I tried to stand up, and Connor followed my lead. A simple shuffle of his jacket, and the Bullhound's face turned to our direction, its heavy hooves' clacking against the floor angrily. The pointed muzzle sniffed the air once more, and it started walking toward us. 

Clearly, the gods were against us, because at that moment, a gust of wind blew from behind us toward the wolf… carrying our scents right to its nose. Its mouth opened, drool hanging from its sharp fangs. Another growl formed in its throat, and this time it fledged into a roar, running right at us.

"Run!" I yelled, drawing Vendetta moments before it stretched its jaw at me, swiping my sword toward its open mouth.

I'd slashed its tongue, staining its mouth with its own blood and ripping out a pained whine from it, pacing back disorientedly. Then, it beared its fangs at me, roaring and splattering its blood all over me. Now it was angry. 

Before I could think of doing anything else, I felt an air current beside me. Connor. When I looked again, he was on the dog's head, trying to bury his sword through the fur. The animal tried to shake off the inconvenience from its scalp.

"Go around it!" Connor yelled, almost falling down its neck. "I'll catch up right when you're past the tunnel!"

"The eyes!" I shouted, as I ran past and moved to behind the monster.

The Bullhound howled in pain, and I assumed Connor followed my advice. I looked back, and saw the boy desperately butchering the milky eyes of the animal, with blood splattered on his face and a mad smile on his lips.

"Die already, argh!" he growled, slashing the katana while he ducked to prevent being crushed between a dog's head and a ceiling.

"Connor!" I called, and he slid through the neck, landing on the floor behind its tail. The wolf tried to bite its own tail, looking for Connor. 

"LET'S RUN!" he swooshed past me, dragging me by the sleeve of my jacket. Our steps echoed in the abandoned tunnel, drawing the hound to us again, following us steps behind with angry huffs and growls. "Fuck, it's still following us!"

We emerged on the other end of the tunnel seconds later. The floor was sandy here, trash and construction materials spread around carelessly. Connor kept dragging me forward, as if we were running to something. Soon, I saw what it was he was so desperate to get to. 

An abandoned building stood tall a few yards in front of us, that I hadn't been able to see from further in the darkness. The hound howled behind us, as if to remind us it was steps away. My heart pumped violently, making my head feel almost hazy. 

"We have to be faster!" Connor shouted, unhappy with my slowness. That was as fast as I could manage. "We just need to reach the apartments! Hurry, Erica!"

I tried to pick up my pace, with larger steps and slower breaths. 

"Fuck, Connor. I can't go any faster." I panted, without stopping. I had the feeling that if he stopped dragging me forward, I'd simply stay behind. 

"Yes you can." Connor insisted, gritting his teeth and speeding up. 

Evidently, he managed to gain the distance between us and the hound, but each step he took for me was too rushed for my brain to even process. Inevitably, I landed on my foot wrong, spraining my ankle as I fell to the floor. Rough sand and rocks scraped my knee, a groan breathing out from my mouth.

Connor stopped  instantly, attempting to pull me up as his eyes shifted between me and the approaching monster. His hands closed around my arm nervously, and tried to haul me up. He succeeded, but I couldn't run without aggravating the wound on my ankle, and he knew it. 

"Fuck." he mumbled, putting my arm across his shoulders. "We can't stop."

He kept dragging me forward. Soon, the hound caught up on us, steps before we reached the building. Its jaw stretched, as it lunged at Connor. I held my sword before him, trying to stab its exposed mouth, but before I could, the beast was thrown back, as if someone had hauled it by its tail. It rolled a few times on the ground, before being able to stand and stop its movement. 

"Hi, Erica!" Nico called, from above us, with an embarrassed smile and a camping backpack. "Sorry about that, hah."

He stood on the second floor, two taller people by his side. His feathery hair was pressed up against his forehead, because of the wind. He had a bandaid under his eye.

"Your fault!?" I shouted in return, as he jumped down and came to me. 

"It's been following me around. I thought I'd lost it when I came to find you, apparently I didn't." he explained, giving me a block of ambrosia and offering one to Connor. 

Connor shook it off with his hand, but he still stared in the direction of the hound, dumbstruck. 

"What is up with it?" he muttered, getting me to look at it. The hound moved absurdly slowly, as if he was under Kronos' time spell. As I paid more attention detail, I noticed the translucid golden layer surrounding it like a sphere.

"Kronos' spell." I whispered. 

Only two people knew that spell, and one of them was Kronos. The other person… 

"Hi there, Ricky!" he exclaimed, a vicious smile on his scarred lips. "Have you missed me?"

Gasper Keller. He'd been a part of the Titan Army, a clear-sighted mortal blessed by Hecate. He was arrogant, smart, and powerful. What made his presence here funny at its least (and impossibly ridiculous at its most) was very interesting. My unfinished sentence was: "The other person was dead."

He looked exactly the way he did when I'd last seen him. The blond buzzcut hadn't moved a single hair or grown a single inch. The scars and scratches all across his face and arms hadn't healed minimally, which led me to believe that he didn't age in the year he'd spent dead. Even the slashes on his neck that had killed him seemed newly healed, like they might gurgle with red blood if someone scratched them.

No one really knew the reason he was so determined to insert himself in the ranks of demigods, but he'd shown up one day to the base with a steel rod demanding to see Luke. When the guards scoffed at him, he'd swung the pipe with mutters of spells, and beat his way into the abandoned warehouse. The wolves and monsters mauled him to half-death, but he didn't give up until Luke showed and spoke to him. 

This had happened a year after my arrival in the army, when Luke had started to trust and befriend my brother, but he'd told no one what that conversation had been about. What we knew was that to Luke's reluctancy, the mortal boy had taken residence with us the next morning, and months later, he too spoke for Kronos. The sleeping Titan had taught him his spells, and the ambitious mortal soon became a name in everybody's mouth.

Hecate prided herself in the mortal, and he knew it. Gasper flaunted it, taunting and provoking Alabaster every chance he got. The son of Hecate contained himself, fearing that Kronos still needed him. 

The man was absolutely savage. Two years younger than Luke, he was tenfold more ruthless. He'd do anything to achieve what he wanted, and often when we discussed tactics his suggestions would be the most inhumane ones. Even the monsters shivered when he boasted of how easily it would be to break down the demigod camp by poisoning their land and water with Kampe poison. Luke had turned that specific opinion down, and they'd fought after the meeting in his room.

His hubris was greater than his power, however. No matter how favored by both Hecate and Kronos he was, he was still a mortal. However blessed he was, any demigod was twice as godly as he was. When Alabaster had reprimanded his behavior a single night before Kronos' resurrection, Gasper insulted him greatly, claiming to be better than he was, and ultimately challenging him to a duel in front of everyone. 

Alabaster had smiled. I'd been the one to get his armor and his broadsword. He'd told me how finally we'd be rid of that piece of scum. Until then, Torrington had swallowed his own pride in fear of Kronos. But this challenge had been proposed by Gasper.

Alabaster left the duel with surface wounds and one or two stabs that weren't that grave, but the mortal proved how fragile his lineage was.  Gasper died that day, his blood splattered all across the halls and the spectators. They'd cheered as the son of Hecate brought down the heavy blade upon the scared boy's throat over and over. I remembered the way Alabaster had spat at the corpse, disdainful as if even fighting him had been a waste of time. 

  "Why did you bring him here?" I asked dryly, clenching my jaw. "Do you know who he is?"

"Aww, I  just saved your ass. Learn to be a bit more grateful, treasonous bitch." Gasper snarled, jumping down as well. I remembered him to be taller, but I'd had a slight growth spurt before my seventeenth birthday, and he hadn't grown.

"Don't call me that when you'd fuck and kill your own mother for some fame and money." I retorqued, spitting at his feet.

"That's a bit of an exaggeration now, isn't it? My own mother? Nah. But your mother–" 

Nico put himself between us, sighing. 

"You're not kids, stop fighting." he said, and Gasper backed away with a shrug. Nico turned to me. "I heard he's got solid spellwork. I found him in the Fields of Punishment and borrowed him from dad for a while."

"Oh gods." I sighed. 

"Who is he?" Connor questioned innocently, before excitedly turning to him. "How'd you do that time thing?"

"Well–" Gasper started, proudly crossing his arms.

"Shut up." I cut him off. "He's a dickhead who's supposed to be dead."

"What did I ever do–" Gasper moaned, before a female voice sounded from the second floor.

"I think the spell is wearing out." 

We all paused to look at the infuriated dog, that started to pace quicker in the dome, slowly approaching us.

A gust of wind passed by the back of my neck, bringing me the newly familiar presence of Alastor. His lightweight hands set on my shoulders, as Connor gasped.

"My knives, Alastor. Do you have them?" I asked, as he flew around to let me see him. The scabbards were connected by a leather band and flung around his shoulder. "Alecto."

He handed me the sheathed venom-coated blade, and I locked the rings to my belt.  Connor used a small elastic band to tie the hair that flapped in front of his eyes in a pigtail over the top of his head, Nico prepped his sword, the girl standing on the second floor nocked an arrow into her bow. We almost seemed like a team.

"We'll kill that fucker, and then we'll talk." I growled, sticking an incriminating finger at Gasper's chest, which drew a laugh from him. 

"Like old times." he grinned, as he picked up a steel rod from the floor. "Unbelievably reliable, eh?"

"Don't get too full of yourself now." I grumbled, shaking the remaining pain off my foot. "I need to stab down the knife on it, which'll hopefully incapacitate it enough."

"I can get its jaw open for long enough for you to get close." Gasper suggested, serious.

Before we could say anything else, the wolf crashed apart the power of his spell, charging at us in max speed. Immediately, we scattered, each to their own side. 

The wolf pounced to the girl whose name I didn't know, who incessantly aimed sharp edged arrows at its snout. Inches away from her, it was hauled back by Gasper, who shouted in Ancient Greek, pointing the rod like a staff at the hound and moving it back. 

It fell on its back painfully, lifting a cloud of dust, and as its belly was exposed, we noticed a balding line through its chest. I glanced at Connor, and wordlessly he smiled and jumped at the monster, holding his katana down above his head. Before the monster could stand back up, his sword was buried in its skin, a howl filling the site.

He dragged the blade down its stomach with both hands, drawing blood and leaving an open cut, before he ripped it out and ran away as the hound stood back up and tried to drag back its offender with its teeth. 

Nico whistled loudly, causing the beast to turn to him. It growled, crouched and ready to jump at the boy who held the black saber. Nico ran toward it, sliding through the floor and to the shadow under its neck. He slashed his sword, but no blood dripped, and the animal only growled of annoyance. Before it could eat him, Nico disappeared and reappeared next to me.

"Whoa. I can't cut through it at all." he panted.

"You don't know about Thessalian Bullhounds?" I frowned, turning to him. "Their fur is too hard and thick for you to cut through it, dummy. Connor found a balding spot, that was luck."

"Ohhh, that makes sense." he nodded, as if I'd enlightened him. 

I'd simply assumed he knew of one of the first monsters you should know as a demigod, but now I remembered he hadn't spent so much time in camp himself, and that he'd simply fended for himself in the meantime. 

Our brief dialogue was interrupted by an arrow. It'd ricocheted against the animal, and turned to our direction, burying itself onto the sand right before Nico's shoes. The archeress shouted an apology, but the hound's eyes had followed the arrow and were now on us. 

"Oops." I muttered, pushing Nico out of the as the dog approached me in angry jumps. 

Desperately searching for Gasper with my glance, I drew Alecto. The mortal crossed eyes with me, winking insufferably while the hound closed his teeth around my arm. Just as the titanium blades touched my sleeve, I heard a whine from the animal. 

Its remaining eye flashed with confusion and pain, as it tried and failed to close its jaw. All of its strength was only enough to make its mandibule tremble. Gasper's face was also strained with effort, and he glared at me to hurry. 

I knocked on the grip of the knife before stabbing it down. The moment it set upon the ceiling of its mouth, agonized moans loudened. Seconds after, the pupils of the hound rolled back, and the struggle to close its own jaw came to a stop.

"The second I pull out my knife, the poison will stop working." I announced, before the slumped animal's vegetative body. 

"You mean it's not dead?" Connor inquired, raising his eyebrows as he sheathed the japanese sword.

"Just incapacitated, in too much pain to do anything. Kampe poison is lethal to humans, but I used a relatively small dosage for something as big as that."

"Leave it, then." Nico shrugged, but I shook my head.

"I'm not gonna just throw away my knife over a Thessalian Bullhound." I protested with a frown. "That's one of my most precious possessions. Nemesis gave this to me on my seventh birthday."

"Yeah, that's right guys. It's mommy's only birthday gift." Gasper ironized, ignoring my glare. "Nikaea, hand me your hunting knives."

"Yes." she answered, while she scaled down from the second floor, agile as a cat. 

So Nikaea was her name. I hadn't looked at her closely before, but now I noticed how her every pose seemed to be careful and contained. Her paces were organized, like that of a soldier, but her talent was definitely archery. When she landed on the ground and tossed a strand of her hair back, I noticed the crescent moon burnt onto her neck. 

A castaway of Artemis. Her huntresses were often exiled or killed for falling in love.

How Nico had thought of those two was out of my imagination. He'd have to explain later, and he'd better have a good one for bringing the shitbag that I had to bury more than a year ago to my eyes again. 

"Thank you, Nikaea." Gasper smiled politely, before crouching at the limp hound's open mouth and starting to cut through its gum.

"What are you doing…" Nico exhaled, seeming more than eager to get out of this place. "Keller, stop trying to cut out its teeth. We don't have that type of time to waste."

To my surprise, he actually did. As soon as he heard the order, the knife dropped onto the shivering lip of the dog. His face turned to Nico, clearly displeased. 

"Come on, it's just a small trophy, don't be such a bitch." he pleaded.

So Nico could order him around.

"Can you tell him to fall on my sword?" I asked, smiling at the son of Hades.

"After the quest, yes." Nico shrugged. "He's going to need to go back anyway. I only promised to alleviate his punishment."

"Let me get the fucking tooth!" Gasper yelled, staring at Nico and waiting for approval. "At least while you two emo kids figure out  what to do to get out of this alive."

Rolling his eyes, Nico shook his hand in dismissal, and the bald shitbag returned to getting the left canine out. 

"Tall kid with the katana." Gasper called at Connor, who pointed at himself like 'me?'. "Help me out. Give me one clean swing right here."

Connor looked at me, and I shrugged. He pulled out the sword.

Gasper pointed at the spot he needed to be cut, and down came the blade, failing it miserably and almost chopping down Gasper's hand. 

"Jesus Christ, Nakamura. Your new little boyfriend has the worst sword skill I've seen in the last three years." he scoffed, making Connor blush in embarrassment.

"As much as I hate him, Connor, the way you did that killed me inside." I laughed, getting behind Connor, and spreading his shoulders to correct his posture. "Here, you grip the sword like– no, you have to– like this, yeah."

"Thanks." Connor muttered, which only made Gasper laugh more. "Dude, you're literally dead right now. Shut up."

"Jeez, alright, handsome. No need to get personal." 

"Now, don't bend your elbows outwards, and focus on all of the blade, not just the one point you want to cut with." I continued, and he corrected himself as I spoke. 

When he swung the blade again, it still wasn't on spot, but relatively closer. It was clean, though; the sword swiped right through, barely staining. The fang dropped, right onto Keller's open hand. It was about twice the length of his middle finger, shining in silver. With the huntress' knife, he scraped away the piece of meat that still dangled due to Connor's poor aim.

"Erica, weren't you keen on keeping your knife?" Nico grumbled, staring at the four of us gasping  around the trophy Gasper had finally obtained. "Weren't we going to figure out how to keep the dog from eating us the second we leave?"

"We can take all his teeth." Gasper suggested, in all seriousness.

"You can kill yourself." I answered, wincing at the thought of cutting off all of the poor dog's teeth. 

"It's a she." Nikaea interjected, pointing her chin at the paralyzed bullhound.

"Oh, my bad. Thank you, Nicky." Gasper corrected himself with a polite smile, and the girl looked away as if she was flattered. "We can take all her teeth."

"And not kill it?" Connor asked, a grimace momentarily occupying his face. "Doesn't that mean it'll end up starving to death?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Mister Environmentalist, would you like to volunteer to be this sweet puppy's food?" 

"It's cruel." Nico proclaimed, strangely authoritarian. "We won't do that."

Gasper sighed and rolled his eyes.  He stood up to give Nikaea her knives back, then reached to the iron rod he'd used earlier. He muttered a spell in greek, then turned to the girl.

"Can you spread her jaw a bit more for me?"

The huntress pushed back the hound's upper mandible, and instantly Keller buried the rod down to the ground, through… its mouth. It tore open the tongue, and the stench almost had me throwing up. 

"You can let go now."

She did so, and the diagonally placed rod rended through its flesh and bones, burying itself into its skull. Connor gagged, looking away.

"Well, that's… one way of doing it." Nico mumbled, his voice sounding a bit nauseated as well. "Anyway, let's get out of here."

I ripped away my dagger, and unexpectedly the hound thrashed, its eye searching its surroundings in a desperate craze as it tried to get up. The rod held it in place. 

It tried to close its mouth, shutting down the maxilar. As it did so, another daunting crackle sounded from its head, and the metal shaft protruded between its eyes. To my surprise, still the dog didn't go quiet, whining and squirming.

Another mutter from Gasper, and the iron pole turned red of heat, before lighting up on fire. 

The hound turned to dust and my knife dropped on the floor.

"We should get out of here for now." Connor suggested, eyeing the dust with disgust. "All this noise might've drawn some monsters here."

I scowled. I didn't like the thought of having Gasper in my house, poking around like the bitch he was, but I needed some sort of explanation from Nico and, as Connor said, we shouldn't stay out here in the open. What surprised me was the next sentence that came out of the boy's mouth.

"We can go to my house. I can ask my mom can cook some supper for you."

"Absolutely not." I said, shaking my head. "No way I'm going to drag you into this more than I already have. Thanks for helping, Connor, but you should go back home."

"Do you live nearby?" Nico asked. My eyes widened, and I turned to glare at him. He shrugged, in a sort of apology. "Sorry, Erica, but we do live pretty far away, and… I need to speak to you. We might have to leave sooner than we expected."

"I live down the street, but hold up, leave?" Connor asked. He glanced at me worryingly. "Leave for what? You didn't tell me."

"Yeah, you might have to come with us." Nico pursed his lips. "Dad said-"

"I don't care what your father said, Nico. He's not coming, it's fucking dangerous and he has no training whatsoever." I interrupted, putting myself in front of Connor.

Nico shifted uncomfortably, twisting his ring.

"Where are you guys going?" Stoll said, starting to hop with a hand on my shoulder. "Sounds exciting. I have training from camp!"

"Connor, it's–" I started, before being cut off.

"We are to find Patroclus' remains, and join them with Achilles'. His ashes are guarded by Achilles' son, Neoptolemus, and his men. They also have a dragon." Nikaea said, which only excited Connor more.

"I'm totally in." he exclaimed, laughing.

"Connor–"

"Can we go to the kid's house and eat something first?" Gasper yelped, as he ripped away the iron rod from the sand. "I'm fucking starving. I haven't eaten anything since the day I died."

"Fine." I grumbled. "We'll go to his house for now, but whether or not he's coming… We'll talk about that there."

"Yay!" Connor cheered, sticking his fit into the air as if I'd agreed to take him to Disneyland. 

So it turned out that what we were going to wouldn't be exactly a happy ride, but poking around graves certainly meant a lot of rats.