Clarisse La Rue cursed her luck. Of all the times for her to be heading back to school, why now? The second day back, and she was already walking home alone. Normally, she wouldn’t mind, not when she had Maimer, her trusty spear, slung across her back. Most mortals couldn’t even see it, thanks to the Mist. To them, it would just look like a harmless guitar.

But now? Now it was useless.

The twelve-foot cyclops towering in front of her had snatched the spear clean out of her hands in the middle of a deserted highway, surrounded only by trees. He was dumb as a rock, but strong enough to knock her flat, and apparently, hungry enough to try.

“Little snack for me, demigod,” he growled, his one bloodshot eye gleaming as he licked his lips. His brothers—two smaller cyclopes—arrived with grins and watering mouths, making the smell of the forest almost unbearable.

Clarisse’s heart raced, her body on full alert. She was skilled in combat, sure, but three against one with no weapon? Not ideal. She could try to run, but that wasn’t her style. Flight or fight? Always fight.

Before she could decide, the largest cyclops let out a strange grunt and stumbled. In the next instant, it collapsed face-first into the dirt, her spear embedded in its skull like a toothpick through an olive.

The smaller cyclopes stared, confused and startled, as their brother lay still, his lifeless body sprawling across the forest floor. Clarisse blinked, her mind racing to understand.

A figure stood in the shadows of the trees, barely visible but unmistakably human. Their eyes were wide with fear, their hands shaking, and their fingers coated in dirt and blood—still gripping the shaft of her spear.

“Who the Hades are you?” Clarisse growled, her eyes narrowing. The realization hit her a seer or a demigod?

She sprinted toward the figure in the woods, snatching her spear from the cyclop's skull and yanking the mortal behind her. “Stay close, and don’t die,” she barked, as the other two cyclopes charged.