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‘That will be part <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> prize,’ Nike said. ‘Whoever wins, I will consider you an ally. We will<br />
fight <strong>the</strong> giants toge<strong>the</strong>r, and I will bestow victory upon you. But <strong>the</strong>re can only be one winner. The<br />
o<strong>the</strong>rs must be defeated, killed, destroyed utterly. So what will it be, demigods? Will you succeed in<br />
your quest, or will you cling to your namby-pamby ideas <strong>of</strong> friendship and everybody wins<br />
participation awards?’<br />
Percy uncapped his pen. Riptide grew into a Celestial bronze sword. Leo was worried he might<br />
turn it on <strong>the</strong>m. Nike’s aura was that hard to resist.<br />
Instead, Percy pointed his blade at Nike. ‘What if we fight you instead?’<br />
‘Ha!’ Nike’s eyes gleamed. ‘If you refuse to fight each o<strong>the</strong>r, you shall be persuaded!’<br />
Nike spread her golden wings. Four metal fea<strong>the</strong>rs fluttered down, two on ei<strong>the</strong>r side <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong><br />
chariot. The fea<strong>the</strong>rs twirled like gymnasts, growing larger, sprouting arms and legs, until <strong>the</strong>y<br />
touched <strong>the</strong> ground as four metallic, human-sized replicas <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> goddess, each armed with a golden<br />
spear and a Celestial bronze laurel wreath that looked suspiciously like a barbed-wire Frisbee.<br />
‘To <strong>the</strong> stadium!’ <strong>the</strong> goddess cried. ‘You have five minutes to prepare. Then <strong>blood</strong> shall be<br />
spilled!’<br />
Leo was about to say, What if we refuse to go to <strong>the</strong> stadium?<br />
He got his answer before asking <strong>the</strong> question.<br />
‘Run!’ Nike bellowed. ‘To <strong>the</strong> stadium with you, or my Nikai will kill you where you stand!’<br />
The metal ladies unhinged <strong>the</strong>ir jaws and blasted out a sound like a Super Bowl crowd mixed with<br />
feedback. They shook <strong>the</strong>ir spears and charged <strong>the</strong> demigods.<br />
It wasn’t Leo’s finest moment. Panic seized him, and he took <strong>of</strong>f. His only comfort was that his<br />
friends did, too – and <strong>the</strong>y weren’t <strong>the</strong> cowardly type.<br />
The four metal women swept behind <strong>the</strong>m in a loose semicircle, herding <strong>the</strong>m to <strong>the</strong> nor<strong>the</strong>ast. All<br />
<strong>the</strong> tourists had vanished. Perhaps <strong>the</strong>y’d fled to <strong>the</strong> air-conditioned comfort <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> museum, or maybe<br />
Nike had somehow forced <strong>the</strong>m to leave.<br />
The demigods ran, tripping over stones, leaping over crumbled walls, dodging around columns and<br />
informational placards. Behind <strong>the</strong>m, Nike’s chariot wheels rumbled and her horses whinnied.<br />
Every time Leo thought about slowing down, <strong>the</strong> metal ladies screamed again – what had Nike<br />
called <strong>the</strong>m? Nikai? Nikettes? – filling Leo with terror.<br />
He hated being filled with terror. It was embarrassing.<br />
‘There!’ Frank sprinted towards a kind <strong>of</strong> trench between two ear<strong>the</strong>n walls with a stone archway<br />
above. It reminded Leo <strong>of</strong> those tunnels that football teams run through when <strong>the</strong>y enter <strong>the</strong> field.<br />
‘That’s <strong>the</strong> entrance to <strong>the</strong> old Olympic stadium. It’s called <strong>the</strong> crypt!’<br />
‘Not a good name!’ Leo yelled.<br />
‘Why are we going <strong>the</strong>re?’ Percy gasped. ‘If that’s where she wants us –’<br />
The Nikettes screamed again and all rational thought abandoned Leo. He ran for <strong>the</strong> tunnel.<br />
When <strong>the</strong>y reached <strong>the</strong> arch, Hazel yelled, ‘Hold it!’<br />
They stumbled to a stop. Percy doubled over, wheezing. Leo had noticed that Percy seemed to get<br />
winded more easily <strong>the</strong>se days – probably because <strong>of</strong> that nasty acid air he’d been forced to brea<strong>the</strong>