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The feline’s ears perked up, and then it bounded in his direction. For a moment Will believed he’d made yet another terrible mistake, but the cat skidded to a stop in front of him andshrank. Secondslater, it was a … a cat. A regular house cat with an orange-and-brown calico coat, and it waspurring, slipping in and out of Will’s legs.
‘You’re kidding me,’ muttered Will.
He wanted to kneel down and pet it – because it wasevilnot to pet a cat that was being so friendly – but he had a more immediate problem to deal with.
The other cynocephali were closing in.
The lead one lifted its top lip in a growl as it advanced. Will quickly counted, and once he got to twelve he realized that maybe he had a better use for his time.
‘Small Bob,’ he said. ‘If you can understand me, I need you to do that sabre-toothed-tiger thing again.’
The cat purred and rubbed his head on Will’s leg.
‘Right now would be great!’
Small Bob meowed.
‘Any second now!’
The cynocephali circled Will, and the leader lowered its head, preparing to pounce.
‘Please don’t scratch me,’ said Will as he bent down and picked up Small Bob. He pressed the cat to his chest with his hand covering Small Bob’s other ear, and with his free hand he put his fingers to his lips.
The lead cynocephalus leaped at him.
And Will let loose an earsplitting whistle.
The cynocephalus dropped in mid-jump and cried out in pain while the flock of Stymphalian birds fell from the air. The rest of the dog-headed men tumbled all over themselves and one another, giving Will what he needed – a temporary advantage. He let go of Small Bob, who jumped out of Will’s arms. Before the cat hit the ground, there was a flash, and Will could see the skeletal outline ofSmall Bob as hegrew, his legs and paws and body swelling and elongating until a full-fledged sabre-toothed tiger hit the packed earth.
Small Bob wasted no time. He decimated as many cynocephali as he could while they were incapacitated, and Will stood there in shock, watching the spirit-like cat lay waste to nearly a full pack of dog-headed monsters. Blood spilled on the ground, and the dead cynocephali disappeared, sent back to regenerate here in Tartarus again. Small Bob had killed nearly all the creatures when a new sound rang out from down the hill.
A voice.
‘Get back here!’ it snarled.
And there, darting in between some intact regeneration pods, was Nico and his glowing purple sword.
‘Nico!’ Will called out, his heart leaping in both excitement and terror. He briefly glanced back to Small Bob, who was fighting three cynocephali at once.
‘You seem to be doing just fine here,’ Will told the cat. ‘I’m gonna go save my boyfriend!’
Small Bob roared. Will thought it sounded a lot like a roar of encouragement.
Will sprinted down the hill, nearly colliding with Nico moments later. To his dismay, Nico’s face was red, and there were three slash marks on his left cheek. Will wanted to sweep his boyfriend up in his arms, shower him with kisses and hugs and healing, but there was no time for that. The creature he’d seen lifting Nico’s boat earlier was now at the bottom of the hill and rapidly approaching.
‘Where is the child?’ it demanded. ‘WHERE IS HE?’
Nico grasped Will’s hand the second he was within reach, but he didn’t stop moving. He yanked Will up the incline, practically pulling the son of Apollo’s arm out of its socket.
‘Ow!’ Will cried. ‘Nico, what’s going on? What child is he talking about?’
‘Not enough time!’ Nico screamed. ‘Go!’
Will followed Nico up the hill, where, unfortunately, they were met with another chaotic scene. Small Bob had indeed taken out two more cynocephali, but now he was limping. His front left leg was injured. Even worse, though, was the revolting sound of more regeneration pods tearing open, their contents spilling out.
The demigods stumbled to a stop. ‘Will, what ishappening?’ Nico asked, panting.
At the sound of Nico’s voice, Small Bob turned his head. Without any hesitation, he turned back into a calico cat and bounded over to Nico, limping the whole time. He leaped onto Nico’s leg and climbed it.
