The Battle Of the Labyrinth

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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: GROVER CAUSES A STAMPEDE

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Distance was shorter in the Labyrinth. Still, by the time Rachel got us

back to Times Square, I felt like we’d pretty much run all the way from New

Mexico. We climbed out of the Marriott basement and stood on the sidewalk

in the bright summer daylight, squinting at the traffic and crowds.

I couldn’t decide which seemed less real—New York or the crystal cave

where I’d watched a god die.

I led the way into an alley, where I could get a nice echo. Then I whistled

as loud as I could, five times.

A minute later, Rachel gasped. “They’re beautiful!”

A flock of pegasi descended from the sky, swooping between the

skyscrapers. Blackjack was in the lead, followed by four of his white friends.

Yo, boss! He spoke in my mind. You lived!

“Yeah,” I told him. “I’m lucky that way. Listen, we need a ride to camp

quick.”

That’s my specialty! Oh man, you got that Cyclops with you? Yo, Guido!

How’s your back holding up?

The Pegasus Guido groaned and complained, but eventually he agreed to

carry Tyson. Everybody started saddling up—except Rachel.

“Well,” she told me, “I guess this is it.”

I nodded uncomfortably. We both knew she couldn’t go to camp. I

glanced at Annabeth, who was pretending to be very busy with her Pegasus.

“Thanks, Rachel,” I said. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it. I mean, except for almost dying, and Pan…”

Her voice faltered.

“He said something about your father,” I remembered. “What did he

mean?”

Rachel twisted the strap on her backpack. “My dad…My dad’s job. He’s

kind of a famous businessman.”

“You mean…you’re rich?”

“Well, yeah.”

“So that’s how you got the chauffeur to help us? You just said your dad’s

name and—”

“Yes,” Rachel cut me off. “Percy…my dad’s a land developer. He flies all

over the world, looking for tracts of undeveloped land.” She took a shaky

breath. “The wild. He—he buys it up. I hate it, but he plows it down and

builds ugly subdivisions and shopping centers. And now that I’ve seen

Pan…Pan’s death—”

“Hey, you can’t blame yourself for that.”

“You don’t know the worst of it. I—I don’t like to talk about my family. I

didn’t want you to know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No,” I said. “It’s cool. Look, Rachel, you did awesome. You led us

through the maze. You were so brave. That’s the only thing I’m going to

judge you on. I don’t care what your dad does.”

Rachel looked at me gratefully. “Well…if you ever feel like hanging out

with a mortal again…you could call me or something.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure.”

She knit her eyebrows. I guess I sounded unenthusiastic or something, but

that’s not how I meant it. I just wasn’t sure what to say with all my friends

standing around. And I guess my feelings had gotten pretty missed up the

last couple of days.

“I mean…I’d like that,” I said.

“My number’s not in the book,” she said.

“I’ve got it.”

“Still on your hand? No way.”

“No. I kinda…memorized it.”

Her smile came back slowly, but a lot happier. “See you later, Percy

Jackson. Go save the world for me, okay?”

She walked off down Seventh Avenue and disappeared into the crowds.

* * *

When I got back to the horses. Nico was having trouble. His Pegasus kept

shying away from him, reluctant to let him mount.

He smells like dead people! The Pegasus complained.

Hey now, Blackjack said. Come on, Porkpie. Lotsa demigods smell weird.

It ain’t their fault. Oh—uh, I didn’t mean you, boss.

“Go without me!” Nico said. “I don’t want to go back to that camp

anyway.”

“Nico,” I said, “we need your help.”

He folded his arms and scowled. Then Annabeth put her hand on his

shoulder.

“Nico,” she said. “Please.”

Slowly, his expression softened. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “For you.

but I’m not staying.”

I raised an eyebrow at Annabeth, like, How come all of a sudden Nico

listens to you? She stuck her tongue out at me.

At last we got everybody on a Pegasus. We shot into the air, and soon we

were over the East river with Long Island spread out before us.

* * *

We landed in the middle of the cabin area and were immediately met by

Chiron, the potbellied satyr Silenus, and a couple of Apollo cabin archers.

Chiron raised an eyebrow when he saw Nico, but if I expected him to be

surprised by our latest news about Quintus being Daedalus, or Kronos rising,

I was mistaken.

“I feared as much,” Chiron said. “We must hurry. Hopefully you have

slowed down the Titan lord, but his vanguard will still be coming through.

They will be anxious for blood. Most of our defenders are already in place.

Come!”

“Wait a moment,” Silenus demanded. “What of the search for Pan? You

are almost three weeks overdue, Grover Underwood! Your searcher’s

license is revoked!”

Grover took a deep breath. He stood up straight and looked Silenus in the

eye. “Searcher’s licenses don’t matter any more. The great god Pan is dead.

He has passed on and left us his spirit.”

“What?” Silenus’s face turned bright red. “Sacrilege and lies! Grover

Underwood, I will have you exiled for speaking thus!”

“It’s true,” I said. “We were there when he died. All of us.”

“Impossible! You are all liars! Nature-destroyers!”

Chiron studied Grover’s face. “We will speak of this later.”

“We will speak of it now!” Silenus said. “We must deal with this—”

“Silenus,” Chiron cut in. “My camp is under attack. The matter of Pan has

waited two thousand years. I fear it will have to wait a bit longer. Assuming

we are still here this evening.”

And on that happy note, he readied his bow and galloped toward the

woods, leaving us to follow as best we could.

* * *

It was the biggest military operation I’d ever seen at camp. Everyone was

at the clearing, dressed in full battle armor, but this time it wasn’t for capture

the flag. The Hephaestus cabin had set up traps around the entrance to the

Labyrinth—razor wire, pits filled with pots of Greek fire, rows of sharpened

sticks to deflect a charge. Beckendorf was manning two catapults the size of

pickup trucks, already primed and aimed at Zeus’s Fist. The Ares cabin was

on the front line, drilling in phalanx formation with Clarisse calling orders.

Apollo’s and Hermes’s cabins were scattered in the woods with bows ready.

Many had taken up positions in the trees. Even the dryads were armed with

bows, and the satyrs trotted around with wooden cudgels and shields made

of rough tree bark.

Annabeth went to join her brethren from the Athena cabin, who had set up

a command tent and were directing operations. A gray banner with an owl

fluttered outside the tent. Our security chief, Argus, stood guard at the door.

Aphrodite’s children were running around straightening everybody’s armor

and offering to comb the tangles out of our horsehair plumes. Even

Dionysus’s kids had found something to do. The god himself was still

nowhere to be seen, but his two blond twin sons were running around

providing all the sweaty warriors with water bottles and juice boxes.

It looked like a pretty good setup, but Chiron muttered next to me. “It

isn’t enough.”

I thought about what I’d seen in the Labyrinth, all the monsters in

Antaeus’s stadium, and the power of Kronos I’d felt of Mt. Tam. My heart

sank. Chiron was right, but it was all we could muster. For once I wished

Dionysus was here, but even if he had been, I didn’t know if he could do

anything. When it came to war, gods were forbidden to interfere directly.

Apparently, the Titans didn’t believe in restrictions like that.

Over at the edge of the clearing, Grover was talking to Juniper. She held

his hands while he told her our story. Green tears formed in her eyes as he

delivered the news about Pan.

Tyson helped the Hephaestus kids prepare the defenses. He picked up

boulders and piled them next to the catapults for firing.

“Stay with me, Percy,” Chiron said. “When the fighting begins, I want

you to wait until we know what we’re dealing with. You must go where we

most need reinforcements.”

“I saw Kronos,” I said, still stunned by the fact. “I looked straight into his

eyes. It was Luke…but it wasn’t.”

Chiron ran his fingers along his bowstring. “He had golden eyes, I would

guess. And in his presence, time seemed to turn to liquid.”

I nodded. “How could he take over a mortal body?”

“I do not know, Percy. Gods have assumed the shapes of mortals for ages,

but to actually become one…to merge the divine form with the mortal. I

don’t know how this could be done without Luke’s form turning into ashes.”

“Kronos said his body had been prepared.”

“I shudder to think what that means. But perhaps it will limit Kronos’s

power. For a time, at least, he is confined to a human form. It binds him

together. Hopefully it also restricts him.”

“Chiron, if he leads the attack—”

“I do not think so, my boy. I would sense if he were drawing near. No

doubt he planned to, but I believe you inconvenienced him when you pulled

down his throne room on top of him.” He looked at me reproachfully. “You

and your friend Nico, son of Hades.”

A lump formed in my throat. “I’m sorry, Chiron. I know I should’ve told

you. It’s just—”

Chiron raised his hand. “I understand why you did it, Percy. You felt

responsible. You sought to protect him. But, my boy, if we are to survive

this war, we must trust each other. We must…”

His voice wavered. The ground underneath us was trembling.

Everyone in the clearing stopped what they were doing. Clarisse barked a

single order: “Lock shields!”

Then the Titan lord’s army exploded from the Labyrinth.

* * *

I mean I’d been in fights before, but this was a full-scale battle. The first

thing I saw were a dozen Laistrygonian giants erupting from the ground,

yelling so loudly my ears felt like bursting. They carried shields made from

flattened cars, and clubs that were tree trunks with rusty spikes bristling at

the end. One of the giants bellowed at the Ares phalanx, smashed it sideways

with his club, and the entire cabin was thrown aside, a dozen warriors tossed

to the wind like rag dolls.

“Fire!” Beckendorf yelled. The catapults swung into action. Two boulders

hurtled toward the giants. One deflected off a car shield with hardly a dent,

but the other caught a Laistrygonian in the chest, and the giant went down.

Apollo’s archers fired a volley, dozens of arrows sticking in the thick armor

of the giants like porcupine quills. Several found chinks in armor, and some

of the giants vaporized at the touch of celestial bronze.

But just when it looked like the Laistrygonians were about to get

overwhelmed, the next wave surged out of the maze: thirty, maybe forty

dracaenae in full battle armor, wielding spears and nets. They dispersed in

all directions. Some hit the traps the Hephaestus cabin had laid. One got

struck on the spikes and became an easy target for archers. Another triggered

a trip wire, and pots of Greek fire exploded into green flames, engulfing

several of the snake women. But many more kept coming. Argus and

Athena’s warriors rushed forward to meet them. I saw Annabeth draw a

sword and engage one of them. Nearby, Tyson was riding a giant. Somehow

he’d managed to climb onto the giant’s back and was hitting him on the head

with a bronze shield—BONG! BONG! BONG!

Chiron calmly aimed arrow after arrow, taking down a monster with every

shot. But more enemies just kept climbing out of the maze. Finally a

hellhound—not Mrs. O’Leary—leaped out of the tunnel and barreled

straight toward the satyrs.

“GO!” Chiron yelled at me.

I drew Riptide and charged.

As I raced across the battlefield, I saw horrible things. An enemy halfblood

was fighting with a son of Dionysus, but it wasn’t much of a contest.

The enemy stabbed him in the arm then clubbed him over the head with the

butt of his sword, and Dionysus’s son went down. Another enemy warrior

shot flaming arrows into the trees, sending our archers and dryads into a

panic.

A dozen dracaenae suddenly broke away from the main fight and

slithered down the path that led toward camp, like they knew where they

were going. If they got out, they could burn down the entire place,

completely unopposed.

The only person anywhere near was Nico di Angelo. He stabbed a

telekhine, and his black Stygian blade absorbed the monster’s essence,

drinking its energy until there was nothing left but dust.

“Nico!” I yelled.

He looked where I was pointing, saw the serpent women, and

immediately understood.

He took a deep breath and held out his black sword. “Serve me,” he called.

The earth trembled. A fissure opened in front of the dracaenae, and a

dozen undead warriors crawled from the earth—horrible corpses in military

uniforms from all different time periods—U.S. Revolutionaries, Roman

centurions, Napoleonic cavalry on skeletal horses. As one, they drew their

swords and engaged the dracaenae. Nico crumpled to his knees, but I didn’t

have time to make sure he was okay.

I closed on the hellhound, which was now pushing the satyrs back toward

the woods. The beast snapped at one satyr, who danced out of its way, but

then it pounced on another who was too slow. The satyr’s tree-bark shield

cracked as he fell.

“Hey!” I yelled.

The hellhound turned. It snarled at me and leaped. It would’ve clawed me

to pieces, but as I fell backward, my fingers closed around a clay jar—one of

Beckendorf’s containers of Greek fire. I tossed it into the hellhound’s maw,

and the creature went up in flames. I scrambled away, breathing heavily.

The satyr who’d gotten trampled wasn’t moving. I rushed over to check

on him, but then I heard Grover’s voice: “Percy!”

A forest fire had started. Flames roared within ten feet of Juniper’s tree,

and Juniper and Grover were going nuts trying to save it. Grover played a

rain song on his pipes. Juniper desperately tried to beat out the flames with

her green shawl, but it was only making things worse.

I ran toward them, jumping past duels, weaving between the legs of giants.

The nearest water was the creek, half a mile away…but I had to do

something. I concentrated. There was a pull in my gut, a roar in my ears.

Then a wall of water came rushing through the trees. It doused the fire,

Juniper, Grover, and pretty much everything else.

Grover blew a spout of water. “Thanks, Percy!”

“No problem!” I ran back toward the fight, and Grover and Juniper

followed. Grover had a cudgel in his hand and Juniper held a stick—like an

old-fashioned whipping switch. She looked really angry, like she was going

to tan somebody’s backside.

Just when it seemed like the battle had balanced out again—like we might

stand a chance—an unearthly shriek echoed out of the Labyrinth, a sound I

had heard before.

Kampê shot into the sky, her bat wings fully extended. She landed on the

top of Zeus’s Fist and surveyed the carnage. Her face was filled with evil

glee. The mutant animal heads growled at her waist. Snakes hissed and

swirled around her legs. In her right hand she held a glittering ball of

thread—Ariadne’s string—but she popped it into a lion’s mouth at her waist

and drew her curved swords. The blades glowed green with poison. Kampê

screeched in triumph, and some of the campers screamed. Others tried to run

and got trampled by hellhounds or giants.

“Di Immortales!” Chiron yelled. He quickly aimed an arrow, but Kampê

seemed to sense his presence. She took flight with amazing speed, and

Chrion’s arrow whizzed harmlessly past her head.

Tyson untangled himself from the giant whom he’d pummeled into

unconsciousness. He ran at our lines, shouting, “Stand! Do not run from her!

Flight!”

But then a hellhound leaped on him, and Tyson and the hound went

rolling away.

Kampê landed on the Athena command tent, smashing it flat. I ran after

her and found Annabeth at my side, keeping pace, her sword in her hand.

“This might be it,” she said.

“Could be.”

“Nice fighting with you, Seaweed Brain.”

“Ditto.”

Together we leaped into the monster’s path. Kampê hissed and sliced at

us. I dodged, trying to distract her, while Annabeth went in for a strike, but

the monster seemed able to fight with both hands independently. She

blocked Annabeth’s sword, and Annabeth had to jump back to avoid the

cloud of poison. Just being near the thing was like standing in an acid fog.

My eyes burned. My lungs couldn’t get enough air. I knew we couldn’t

stand our ground for more than a few seconds.

“Come on!” I shouted. “We need help!”

But no help came. Everyone was either down, or fighting for their lives,

or too scared to move forward. Three of Chiron’s arrows sprouted from

Kampê’s chest, but she just roared louder.

“Now!” Annabeth said.

Together we charged, dodged the monster’s slashes, got inside her guard,

and almost…almost managed to stab Kampê in the chest, but a huge bear’s

head lashed out from the monster’s waist, and we had to stumble backward

to avoid getting bitten.

Slam!

My eyesight went black. The next thing I knew, Annnabeth and I were on

the ground. The monster had its forelegs on our chests, holding us down.

Hundreds of snakes slithered right above me, hissing like laughter. Kampê

raised her green-tinged swords, and I knew Annabeth and I were out of

options.

Then, behind me, something howled. A wall of darkness slammed into

Kampê, sending the monster sideways. And Mrs. O’Leary was standing over

us, snarling and snapping at Kampê.

“Good girl!” said a familiar voice. Daedalus was fighting his way out of

the Labyrinth, slashing down enemies left and right as he made his way

toward us. Next to him was someone else—a familiar giant, much taller than

the Laistrygonians, with a hundred rippling arms, each holding a huge chunk

of rock.

“Briares!” Tyson cried in wonder.

“Hail, little brother!” Briares bellowed. “Stand firm!”

And as Mrs. O’Leary leaped out of the way, the Hundred-Handed One

launched a volley of boulders at Kampê. The rocks seemed to enlarge as

they left Briares’s hands. There were so many, it looked like half the earth

had learned to fly.

BOOOOOM!

Where Kampê had stood a moment before was a mountain of boulders,

almost as tall as Zeus’s Fist. The only sign that the monster had ever existed

were two green sword points sticking through the cracks.

A cheer went up from the campers, but our enemies weren’t done yet.

One of the dracaenae yelled, “Ssssslay them! Kill them all or Kronossss will

flay you alive!”

Apparently, that threat was more terrifying than we were. The giants

surged forward in a last desperate attempt. One surprised Chiron with a

glancing blow to the back legs, and he stumbled and fell. Six giants cried in

glee and rushed forward.

“No!” I screamed, but I was too far away to help.

Then it happened. Grover opened his mouth, and the most horrible sound

I’d ever heard came out. It was like a brass trumpet magnified a thousand

times—the sound of pure fear.

As one, the forces of Kronos dropped their weapons and ran for their lives.

The giants trampled the dracaenae trying to get into the Labyrinth first.

Telekhines and hellhounds and enemy half-bloods scrambled after them.

The tunnel rumbled shut, and the battle was over. The clearing was quiet

except for the fires burning in the woods, and the cries of the wounded.

I helped Annabeth to her feet. We ran to Chiron.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

He was lying on his side, trying in vain to get up. “How embarrassing,” he

muttered. “I think I will be fine. Fortunately, we do not shoot centaurs with

broken… Ow! …broken legs.

“You need help,” Annabeth said. “I’ll get a medic from Apollo’s cabin.”

“No,” Chiron insisted. “There are more serious injuries to attend to. Go! I

am fine. But, Grover…later we must talk about how you did that.”

“That was amazing,” I agreed.

Grover blushed. “I don’t know where it came from.”

Juniper hugged him fiercely. “I do!”

Before she could say more, Tyson called, “Percy, come quick! It is Nico!”

* * *

There was smoke curling off his black clothes. His fingers were clenched,

and the grass all around his body had turned yellow and died.

I rolled him over as gently as I could and put my against his chest. His

heart was beating faintly. “Get some nectar!” I yelled.

One of the Ares campers hobbled over and handed me a canteen. I

trickled some of the magic drink into Nico’s mouth. He coughed and

spluttered, but his eyelids fluttered open.

“Nico, what happened?” I asked. “Can you talk?”

He nodded weakly. “Never tried to summon so many before. I—I’ll be

fine.”

We helped him sit up and gave him some more nectar. He blinked at all of

us, like he was trying to remember who we were, and then he focused on

someone behind me.

“Daedalus,” he croaked.

“Yes, my boy,” the inventor said. “I made a very bad mistake. I came to

correct it.”

Daedalus had a few scratches that were bleeding golden oil, but he looked

better than most of us. Apparently his automaton body healed itself quickly.

Mrs. O’Leary loomed behind him, licking the wounds on her master’s head

so Daedalus’s hair stood up funny. Briares stood next to him, surrounded by

a group of awed campers and satyrs. He looked kind of bashful, but he was

signing autographs on armor, shields, and T-shirts.

“I found the Hundred-Handed One as I came through the maze,” Daedalus

explained. “It seems he had the same idea, to come help, but he was lost.

And so we fell in together. We both came to make amends.”

“Yay!” Tyson jumped up and down. “Briares! I knew you would come!”

“I did not know,” the Hundred-Handed One said. “But you reminded me

who I am, Cyclops. You are the hero.”

Tyson blushed, but I patted him on the back. “I knew that a long time

ago,” I said. “But, Daedalus…the Titan army is still down there. Even

without the string, they’ll be back. They’ll find a way sooner or later, with

Kronos leading them.”

Daedalus sheathed his sword. “You are right. As long as the Labyrinth is

here, your enemies can use it. Which is why the Labyrinth cannot continue.”

Annabeth stared at him. “But you said the Labyrinth is tied to your life

force! As long as you’re alive—”

“Yes, my young architect,” Daedalus agreed. “When I die, the Labyrinth

will die as well. And so I have a present for you.”

He slung a leather satchel off his back, unzipped it, and produced a sleek

silver laptop computer—one of the ones I’d seen in the workshop. On the lid

was the blue symbol _.

“My work is here,” he said. “It’s all I managed to save from the fire.

Notes on projects I never started. Some of my favorite designs. I couldn’t

develop these over the last few millennia. I did not dare reveal my work to

the mortal world. But perhaps you will find it interesting.”

He handed the computer to Annabeth, who stared at it like it was solid

gold. “You’re giving me this? But this is priceless! This is worth…I don’t

even know how much!”

“Small compensation for the way I have acted,” Daedalus said. “You

were right, Annabeth, about children of Athena. We should be wise, and I

was not. Someday you will be a greater architect than I ever was. Take my

ideas and improve them. It is the least I can do before I pass on.”

“Whoa,” I said. “Pass on? But you can’t just kill yourself. That’s wrong.”

He shook his head. “Not as wrong as hiding from my crimes for two

thousand years. Genius does not excuse evil, Percy. My time has come. I

must face my punishment.”

“You won’t get a fair trial,” Annabeth said. “The spirit of Minos sits in

judgment—”

“I will take what comes,” he said. “And trust in the justice of the

Underworld, such as it is. That is all we can do, isn’t it?”

He looked straight at Nico, and Nico’s face darkened.

“Yes,” he said.

“Will you take my soul for ransom, then?” Daedalus asked. “You could

use it to reclaim your sister.”

“No,” Nico said. “I will help you release your spirit. But Bianca has

passed. She must stay where she is.”

Daedalus nodded. “Well done, son of Hades. You are becoming wise.”

Then he turned toward me. “One last favor, Percy Jackson. I cannot leave

Mrs. O’Leary alone. And she has no desire to return to the Underworld. Will

you care for her?”

I looked at the massive black hound, who whimpered pitifully, still

licking Daedalus’s hair. I was thinking that my mom’s apartment wouldn’t

allow dogs, especially dogs bigger than the apartment, but I said, “Yeah. Of

course I will.”

“Then I am ready to see my son…and Perdix,” he said. “I must tell them

how sorry I am.”

Annabeth had tears in her eyes.

Daedalus turned toward Nico, who drew his sword. At first I was afraid

Nico would kill the old inventor, but he simply said, “Your time is long

since come. Be released and rest.”

A smile of relief spread across Daedalus’s face. He froze like a statue. His

skin turned transparent, revealing the bronze gears and machinery whirring

inside his body. Then the statue turned to gray ash and disintegrated.

Mrs. O’Leary howled. I patted her head, trying to comfort her as best I

could. The earth rumbled—an earthquake that could probably be felt in

every major city across the country—as the ancient Labyrinth collapsed.

Somewhere, I hoped, the remains of the Titan’s strike force had been buried.

I looked around at the carnage in the clearing, and the weary faces of my

friends.

“Come on,” I told them. “We have work to do.”

 

CHAPTER NINETEEN: THE COUNCIL GETS CLOVEN

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There were too many good-byes.

That night was the first time I actually saw camp burial shrouds used on

bodies, and it was not something I wanted to see again.

Among the dead, Lee Fletcher from the Apollo cabin had been downed by

a giant’s club. He was wrapped in a golden shroud without any decoration.

The son of Dionysus who’d gone down fighting an enemy half-blood was

wrapped in a deep purple shroud embroidered with grapevines. His name

was Castor. I was ashamed that I’d seen him around camp for three years

and never even bothered to learn his name. He’d been seventeen years old.

His twin brother, Pollux, tried to say a few words, but he choked up and just

took the torch. He lit the funeral pyre in the middle of the amphitheater, and

within seconds the row of shrouds was engulfed in fire, sending smoke and

sparks up to the stars.

We spent the next day treating the wounded, which was almost everybody.

The satyrs and dryads worked to repair the damage to the woods.

At noon, the Council of Cloven Elders held an emergency meeting in their

sacred grove. The three senior satyrs were there, along with Chiron, who

was in wheelchair form. His broken horse leg was still mending, so he would

be confined to the chair for a few months, until the leg was strong enough to

take his weight. The grove was filled with satyrs and dryads and naiads up

from the water—hundreds of them, anxious to hear what would happen.

Juniper, Annabeth, and I stood by Grover’s side.

Silenus wanted to exile Grover immediately, but Chiron persuaded him to

at least hear evidence first, so we told everyone what had happened in the

crystal cavern, and what Pan had said. Then several eyewitnesses from the

battle described the weird sound Grover had made, which drove the Titan’s

army back underground.

“It was panic,” insisted Juniper. “Grover summoned the power of the wild

god.”

“Panic?” I asked.

“Percy,” Chiron explained, “during the first war of the gods and the Titans,

Lord Pan let forth a horrible cry that scared away the enemy armies. It is—it

was his greatest power—a massive wave of fear that helped the gods win the

day. The word panic is named after Pan, you see. And Grover used that

power, calling it forth from within himself.”

“Preposterous!” Silenus bellowed. “Sacrilege! Perhaps the wild god

favored us with a blessing. Or perhaps Grover’s music was so awful it

scared the enemy away!”

“That wasn’t it, sir,” Grover said. He sounded a lot calmer than I would

have if I’d been insulted like that. “He let his spirit pass into all of us. We

must act. Each of us must work to renew the wild, to protect what’s left of it.

We must spread the word. Pan is dead. There is no one but us.”

“After two thousand years of searching, this is what you would have us

believe?” Silenus cried. “Never! We must continue the search! Exile the

traitor!”

Some of the older satyrs muttered assent.

“A vote!” Silenus demanded. “Who would believe this ridiculous young

satyr, anyway?”

“I would,” said a familiar voice.

Everyone turned. Striding into the grove was Dionysus. He wore a formal

black suit, so I almost didn’t recognize him, a deep purple tie and violet

dress shirt, his curly dark hair carefully combed. His eyes were bloodshot as

usual, and his pudgy face was flushed, but he looked like he was suffering

from grief more than wine-withdrawal.

The satyrs all stood respectfully and bowed as he approached. Dionysus

waved his hand, and a new chair grew out of the ground next to Silenus’s—a

throne made of grapevines.

Dionysus sat down and crossed his legs. He snapped his fingers and satyr

hurried forward with a plate of cheese and crackers and a Diet Coke.

The god of wine looked around at the assembled crowd. “Miss me?”

The satyrs fell over themselves nodding and bowing. “Oh, yes, very much,

sire!”

“Well, I did not miss this place!” Dionysus snapped. “I bear bad news, my

friends. Evil news. The minor gods are changing sides. Morpheus has gone

over to the enemy. Hecate, Janus, and Nemesis, as well. Zeus knows how

many more.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Strike that,” Dionysus said. “Even Zeus doesn’t know. Now, I want to

hear Grover’s story. Again, from the top.”

“But, my lord,” Silenus protested. “It’s just nonsense!”

Dionysus’s eyes flared with purple fire. “I have just learned that my son

Castor is dead, Silenus. I am not in a good mood. You would do well to

humor me.”

Silenus gulped, and waved at Grover to start again.

When Grover was done, Mr. D nodded. “It sounds like just the sort of

thing Pan would do. Grover is right. The search is tiresome. You must start

thinking for yourselves.” He turned to a satyr. “Bring me some peeled

grapes, right away!”

“Yes, sire!” The satyr scampered off.

“We must exile the traitor!” Silenus insisted.

“I say no,” Dionysus countered. “That is my vote.”

“I vote no as well,” Chiron put in.

Silenus set his jaw stubbornly. “All in favor of the exile?”

He and the two other old satyrs raised their hands.

“Three to two,” Silenus said.

“Ah, yes,” Dionysus said. “But unfortunately for you, a god’s vote counts

twice. And as I voted against, we are tied.”

Silenus stood, indignant. “This is an outrage! The council cannot stand at

an impasse.”

“Then let it be dissolved!” Mr. D said. “I don’t care.”

Silenus bowed stiffly, along with his two friends, and they left the grove.

About twenty satyrs went with them. The rest stood around murmuring

uncomfortably.

“Don’t worry,” Grover told them. “We don’t need the council to tell us

what to do. We can figure it out ourselves.”

He told them again the words of Pan—how they must save the wild a little

at a time. He started dividing the satyrs into groups—which ones would go

to the national parks, which ones would search out the last wild places,

which ones would defend the parks in the big cities.

“Well,” Annabeth said to me, “Grover seems to be growing up.”

* * *

Later that afternoon I found Tyson at the beach, talking to Briares. Briares

was building a sand castle with about fifty of his hands. He wasn’t really

paying attention to it, but his hands had constructed a three-story compound

with fortified walls, a moat, and a drawbridge.

Tyson was drawing a map in the sand.

“Go left at the reef,” he told Briares. “Straight down when you see the

sunken ship. Then about one mile east, past the mermaid graveyard, you will

start to see fires burning.”

“You’re giving him directions to the forges?” I asked.

Tyson nodded. “Briares wants to help. He will teach Cyclopes ways we

have forgotten, how to make better weapons and armor.”

“I want to see Cyclopes,” Briares agreed. “I don’t want to be lonely

anymore.”

“I doubt you’ll be lonely down there,” I said a little wistfully, because I’d

never even been in Poseidon’s kingdom. “They’re going to keep you really

busy.”

Briares’s face morphed to a happy expression. “Busy sounds good! I only

wish Tyson could go, too.”

Tyson blushed. “I need to stay here with my brother. You will do fine,

Briares. Thank you.”

The Hundred-Handed One shook my hand about a hundred times. “We

will meet again, Percy. I know it!”

Then he gave Tyson a big octopus hug and waded out into the ocean. We

watched until his enormous head disappeared under the waves.

I clapped Tyson on the back. “You helped him a lot.”

“I only talked to him.”

“You believed in him. Without Briares, we never would’ve taken down

Kampê.”

Tyson grinned. “He throws good rocks!”

I laughed. “Yeah. He throws really good rocks. Come on, big guy. Let’s

have dinner.”

* * *

It felt good to have a regular dinner at camp. Tyson sat with me at the

Poseidon table. The sunset over Long Island Sound was beautiful. Things

weren’t back to normal by a long shot, but when I went up to the brazier and

scraped part of my meal into the flames as an offering to Poseidon, I felt like

I really did have a lot to be grateful for. My friends and I were alive. The

camp was safe. Kronos had suffered a setback, at least for a while.

The only thing that bothered me was Nico, hanging in the shadows at the

edge of the pavilion. He’d been offered a place at the Hermes table, and

even at the head table with Chiron, but he had refused.

After dinner, the campers headed toward the amphitheater, where

Apollo’s cabin promised an awesome sing-along to pick up our spirits, but

Nico turned and disappeared into the woods. I decided I’d better follow him.

As I passed under the shadows of the trees, I realized how dark it was

getting. I’d never been scared in the forest before, though I knew there were

plenty of monsters. Still, I thought about yesterday’s battle, and I wondered

if I’d ever be able to walk in those woods again without remembering the

horror of so much fighting.

I couldn’t see Nico, but after a few minutes of walking I saw a glow up

ahead. At first I thought Nico had lit a torch. As I got closer, I realized the

glow was a ghost. The shimmering form of Bianca di Angelo stood in the

clearing, smiling at her brother. She said something to him and touched his

face—or tried to. Then her image faded.

Nico turned and saw me, but he didn’t look mad.

“Saying good-bye,” he said hoarsely.

“We missed you at dinner,” I said. “You could’ve sat with me.”

“No.”

“Nico, you can’t miss every meal. If you don’t want to stay with Hermes,

maybe they can make an exception and put you in the Big House. They’ve

got plenty of rooms.”

“I’m not staying, Percy.”

“But…you can’t just leave. It’s too dangerous out there for a lone halfblood.

You need to train.”

“I train with the dead,” he said flatly. “This camp isn’t for me. There’s a

reason they didn’t put a cabin to Hades here, Percy. He’s not welcome, any

more than he is on Olympus. I don’t belong. I have to go.”

I wanted to argue, but part of me knew he was right. I didn’t like it, but

Nico would have to find his own, dark way. I remembered in Pan’s cave,

how the wild god had addressed each one of us individually…except Nico.”

“When will you go?” I asked.

“Right away. I’ve got tons of questions. Like who was my mother? Who

paid for Bianca and me to go to school? Who was that lawyer guy who got

us out of the Lotus Hotel? I know nothing about my past. I need to find out.”

“Makes sense,” I admitted. “But I hope we don’t have to be enemies.”

He lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry I was a brat. I should’ve listened to you

about Bianca.”

“By the way…” I fished something out of my pocket. “Tyson found this

while we were cleaning the cabin. Thought you might want it.” I held out a

lead figurine of Hades—the little Mythomagic statue Nico had abandoned

when he fled camp last winter.

Nico hesitated. “I don’t play that game anymore. It’s for kids.”

“It’s got four thousand attack power,” I coaxed.

“Five thousand,” Nico corrected. “But only if your opponent attacks

first.”

I smiled. “Maybe it’s okay to still be a kid once in a while.” I tossed him

the statue.

Nico studied it in his palm for a few seconds, then slipped it into his

pocket. “Thanks.”

I put out my hand. He shook reluctantly. His hand was as cold as ice.

“I’ve got a lot of things to investigate,” he said. “Some of them…Well, if

I learn anything useful, I’ll let you know.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, but I nodded. “Keep in touch, Nico.”

He turned and trudged off into the woods. The shadows seemed to bend

toward him as he walked, like they were reaching out for his attention.

A voice right behind me said, “There goes a very troubled young man.”

I turned and found Dionysus standing there, still in his black suit.

“Walk with me,” he said.

“Where to?” I asked suspiciously.

“Just to the campfire,” he said. “I was beginning to feel better, so I

thought I would talk with you a bit. You always manage to annoy me.”

“Uh, thanks.”

We walked through the woods in silence. I noticed that Dionysus was

treading on air, his polished black shoes hovering an inch off the ground. I

guess he didn’t want to get dirty.

“We have had many betrayals,” he said. “Things are not looking good for

Olympus. Yet you and Annabeth saved this camp. I’m not sure I should

thank you for that.”

“It was a group effort.”

He shrugged. “Regardless, I suppose it was mildly competent, what you

two did. I thought you should know—it wasn’t a total loss.”

We reached the amphitheater, and Dionysus pointed toward the campfire.

Clarisse was sitting shoulder to shoulder with a big Hispanic kid who was

telling her a joke. It was Chris Rodriguez, the half-blood who’d gone insane

in the Labyrinth.

I turned to Dionysus. “You cured him?”

“Madness is my specialty. It was quite simple.”

“But…you did something nice. Why?”

He raised an eyebrow. “I am nice! I simply ooze niceness, Perry

Johansson. Haven’t you noticed?”

“Uh—”

“Perhaps I felt grieved by my son’s death. Perhaps I thought this Chris

boy deserved a second chance. At any rate, it seems to have improved

Clarisse’s mood.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

The wine god sighed. “Oh, Hades if I know. But remember, boy, that a

kind act can sometimes be as powerful as a sword. As a mortal, I was never

a great fighter or athlete or poet. I only made wine. The people in my village

laughed at me. They said I would never amount to anything. Look at me

now. Sometimes small things can become very large indeed.”

He left me alone to think about that. And as I watched Clarisse and Chris

singing a stupid campfire song together, holding hands in the darkness,

where they thought nobody could see them, I had to smile.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY: MY BIRTHDAY PARTY TAKES A DARK TURN

Click here to Go To Index

The rest of the summer seemed strange because it was so normal. The

daily activities continued: archery, rock climbing, Pegasus riding. We played

capture the flag (though we all avoided Zeus’s Fist). We sang at the

campfire and raced chariots and played practical jokes on the other cabins. I

spent a lot of time with Tyson, playing with Mrs. O’Leary, but she would

still howl at night when she got lonely for her old master. Annabeth and I

pretty much skirted around each other. I was glad to be with her, but it also

kind of hurt, and it hurt when I wasn’t with her, too.

I wanted to talk to her about Kronos, but I couldn’t do that anymore

without bringing up Luke. And that was one subject I couldn’t raise. She

would shut me out every time I tried.

July passed, with fireworks on the beach on the Fourth. August turned so

hot the strawberries started baking in the fields. Finally, the last day of camp

arrived. The standard form letter appeared on my bed after breakfast,

warning me that the cleaning harpies would devour me if I stayed past noon.

At ten o’clock I stood on the top of Half-Blood Hill, waiting for the camp

van that would take me into the city. I’d made arrangements to leave Mrs.

O’Leary at camp, where Chiron promised she’d be looked after. Tyson and I

would take turns visiting her during the year.

I hoped Annabeth would be riding into Manhattan with me, but she only

came to see me off. She said she’d arranged to stay at camp a little longer.

She would tend to Chiron until his leg was fully recovered, and keep

studying Deadalus’s laptop, which had engrossed her for the last two months.

Then she would head back to her father’s place in San Francisco.

“There’s a private school out there that I’ll be going to,” she said. “I’ll

probably hate it, but…” she shrugged.

“Yeah, well, call me, okay?”

“Sure,” she said half-heartedly. “I’ll keep my eyes open for…”

There it was again. Luke. She couldn’t even say his name without opening

up a huge box of hurt and worry and anger.

“Annabeth,” I said. “What was the rest of the prophecy?”

She fixed her eyes on the woods in the distance, but she didn’t say

anything.

“You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze,” I remembered.

“The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise. We raised a lot of the dead.

We saved Ethan Nakamura, who turned out to be a traitor. We raised the

spirit of Pan, the lost one.”

Annabeth shook her head like she wanted me to stop.

“You shall rise or fall by the ghost king’s hand,” I pressed on. “That

wasn’t Minos, like I’d thought. It was Nico. By choosing to be on our side,

he saved us. And the child of Athena’s final stand—that was Daedalus.”

“Percy—”

“Destroy with a hero’s final breath. That makes sense now. Daedalus died

to destroy the Labyrinth. But what was the last—”

“And lose a love to worse than death.” Annabeth had tears in her eyes.

“That was the last line, Percy. Are you happy now?”

The sun seemed colder than it had a moment ago. “Oh,” I said. “So

Luke—”

“Percy, I didn’t know who the prophecy was talking about. I—I didn’t

know if…” She faltered helplessly. “Luke and I—for years, he was the only

one who really cared about me. I thought…”

Before she could continue, a sparkle of light appeared next to us, like

someone had opened a gold curtain in the air.

“You have nothing to apologize for, my dear.” Standing on the hill was a

tall woman in a white dress, her dark hair braided over her shoulder.

“Hera,” Annabeth said.

The goddess smiled. “You found the answers, as I knew you would. Your

quest was a success.”

“A success?” Annabeth said. “Luke is gone. Daedalus is dead. Pan is

dead. How is that—”

“Our family is safe,” Hera insisted. “Those others are better gone, my

dear. I am proud of you.”

I balled my fists. I couldn’t believe she was saying this. “You’re the one

who paid Geryon to let us through the ranch, weren’t you?”

Hera shrugged. Her dress shimmered in rainbow colors. “I wanted to

speed you on your way.”

“But you didn’t care about Nico. You were happy to see him turned over

to the Titans.”

“Oh, please.” Hera waved her hand dismissively. “The son of Hades said

it himself. No one wants him around. He does not belong.”

“Hephaestus was right,” I growled. “You only care about your perfect

family, not real people.”

Her eyes turned dangerously bright. “Watch yourself, son of Poseidon. I

guided you more than you know in the maze. I was at your side when you

faced Geryon. I let your arrow fly straight. I sent you to Calypso’s island. I

opened the way to the Titan’s mountain. Annabeth, my dear, surely you see

how I’ve helped. I would welcome a sacrifice for my efforts.”

Annabeth stood still as a statue. She could’ve said thank you. She

could’ve promised to throw some barbecue on the brazier for Hera and

forget the whole thing. But she clenched her jaw stubbornly. She looked just

the way she had when she’d faced the Sphinx—like she wasn’t going to

accept an easy answer, even if it got her in serious trouble. I realized that

was one of the things I liked best about Annabeth.

“Percy is right.” she turned her back on the goddess. “You’re the one who

doesn’t belong, Queen Hera. So next time, thanks…but no thanks.”

Hera’s sneer was worse than an empousa’s. Her form began to glow.

“You will regret this insult, Annabeth. You will regret this very much.”

I averted my eyes as the goddess turned into her true divine form and

disappeared in a blaze of light.

The hilltop was peaceful again. Over at the pine tree, Peleus the dragon

dozed under the Golden Fleece as if nothing had happened.

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth told me. “I—I should get back. I’ll keep in touch.”

“Listen, Annabeth—” I thought about Mount St. Helens, Calypso’s Island,

Luke and Rachel Elizabeth Dare, and how suddenly everything had gotten

so complicated. I wanted to tell Annabeth that I didn’t really want to be so

distant from her.

Then Argus honked his horn down at the road, and I lost my chance.

“You’d better get going,” Annabeth said. “Take care, Seaweed Brain.”

She jogged down the hill. I watched her until she reached the cabins. She

didn’t look back once.

* * *

Two days later it was my birthday. I never advertised the date, because it

always fell right after camp, so none of my camp friends could usually come,

and I didn’t have that many mortal friends. Besides, getting older didn’t

seem like anything to celebrate since I’d gotten the big prophecy about me

destroying or saving the world when I turned sixteen. Now I was turning

fifteen. I was running out of time.

My mom threw me a small party at our apartment. Paul Blofis came over,

but that was okay because Chiron had manipulated the Mist to convince

everyone at Goode High School that I had nothing to do with the band room

explosion. Now Paul and the other witnesses were convinced that Kelli had

been a crazy, firebomb-throwing cheerleader, while I had simply been an

innocent bystander who’d panicked and ran from the scene. I would still be

allowed to start as a freshman at Goode next month. If I wanted to keep my

record of getting kicked out of school every year, I’d have to try harder.

Tyson came to my party, too, and my mother baked two extra blue cakes

just for him. While Tyson helped my mom blow up party balloons, Paul

Blofis asked me to help him in the kitchen.

As we were pouring punch, he said, “I hear your mom signed you up for

driver’s ed this fall.”

“Yeah. It’s cool. I can’t wait.”

Seriously, I’d been excited about getting my license forever, but I guess

my heart wasn’t in it anymore, and Paul could tell. In a weird way he

reminded me of Chiron sometimes, how he could look at your and actually

see your thoughts. I guess it was that teacher aura.

“You’ve had a rough summer,” he said. “I’m guessing you lost someone

important. And…girl trouble?”

I stared at him. “How do you know that? Did my mom—”

He held up his hands. “Your mom hasn’t said a thing. And I won’t pry. I

just know there’s something unusual about you, Percy. You’ve got a lot

going on that I can’t figure. But I was also fifteen once, and I’m just

guessing from your expression…Well, you’ve had a rough time.”

I nodded. I’d promised my mom I would tell Paul the truth about me, but

now didn’t seem the time. Not yet. “I lost a couple of friends at this camp I

go to,” I said. “I mean, not close friends, but still—”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah. And, uh, I guess the girl stuff…”

“Here.” Paul handed me some punch. “To your fifteenth birthday. And to

a better year to come.”

We tapped our paper cups together and drank.

“Percy, I kind of feel bad giving you one more thing to think about,” Paul

said. “But I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Girl stuff.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Your mom,” Paul said. “I’m thinking about proposing to her.”

I almost dropped my cup. “You mean…marrying her? You and her?”

“Well, that was the genera idea. Would that be okay with you?”

“You’re asking my permission?”

Paul scratched his beard. “I don’t know if it’s permission, so much, but

she’s your mother. And I know you’re going through a lot. I wouldn’t feel

right if I didn’t talk to you about it first, man to man.”

“Man to man,” I repeated. It sounded strange, saying that. I thought about

Paul and my mom, how she smiled and laughed more whenever he was

around, and how Paul had gone out of his way to get me into high school. I

found myself saying, “I think that’s a great idea, Paul. Go for it.”

He smiled really wide then. “Cheers, Percy. Let’s join the party.”

* * *

I was just getting ready to blow out the candles when the doorbell rang.

My mom frowned. “Who could that be?”

It was weird, because our new building had a doorman, but he hadn’t

called up or anything. My mom opened the door and gasped.

It was my dad. He was wearing Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt and

Birkenstocks, like he usually does. His black beard was neatly trimmed and

his sea-green eyes twinkled. He wore a battered cap decorated with fishing

lures. It said NEPTUNE’S LUCKY FISHING HAT.

“Pos—” My mother stopped herself. She was blushing right to the roots

of her hair. “Um, hello.”

“Hello, Sally,” Poseidon said. “You look as beautiful as ever. May I come

in?”

My mother made a squeaking sound that might’ve been either a “Yes” or

“Help.” Poseidon took it as a yes and came in.

Paul was looking back and forth between us, trying to read our

expressions. Finally he stepped forward. “Hi, I’m Paul Blofis.”

Poseidon raised his eyebrows as they shook hands. “Blowfish, did you

say?”

“Ah, no. Blofis, actually.”

“Oh, I see,” Poseidon said. “A shame. I quite like blowfish. I am

Poseidon.”

“Poseidon? That’s an interesting name.”

“Yes, I like it. I’ve gone by other names, but I do prefer Poseidon.”

“Like the god of the sea.”

“Very much like that, yes.”

“Well!” my mom interrupted. “Um, we’re so glad you could drop by. Paul,

this is Percy’s father.”

“Ah.” Paul nodded, though he didn’t look real pleased. “I see.”

Poseidon smiled at me. “There you are, my boy. And Tyson, hello, son!”

“Daddy!” Tyson bounded across the room and gave Poseidon a big hug,

which almost knocked off his fishing hat.

Paul’s jaw dropped. He stared at my mom. “Tyson is…”

“Not mine,” she promised. “It’s a long story.”

“I couldn’t miss Percy’s fifteenth birthday,” Poseidon said. “Why, if this

were Sparta, Percy would be a man today!”

“That’s true,” Paul said. “I used to teach ancient history.”

Poseidon’s eyes twinkled. “That’s me. Ancient history. Sally, Paul,

Tyson…would you mind if I borrowed Percy for a moment?”

He put his arm around me and steered me into the kitchen.

* * *

Once we were alone, his smile faded.

“Are you all right, my boy?”

“Yeah. I’m fine. I guess.”

“I heard stories,” Poseidon said. “But I wanted to hear it directly from you.

Tell me everything.”

So I did. It was kind of disconcerting, because Poseidon listened so

intently. His eyes never left my face. His expression didn’t change the whole

time I talked. When I was done, he nodded slowly.

“So Kronos is indeed back. It will not be long before full war is upon us.”

“What about Luke?” I asked. “Is he really gone?”

“I don’t know, Percy. It is most disturbing.”

“But his body is mortal. Couldn’t you just destroy him?”

“Mortal, perhaps, but there is something different about Luke, my boy. I

don’t know how he was prepared to host the Titan’s soul, but he will not be

easily killed. And yet, I fear he must be killed if we are to send Kronos back

to the pit. I will have to think on this. Unfortunately, I have other problems

of my own.”

I remembered what Tyson had told me at the beginning of the summer.

“The old sea gods?”

“Indeed. The battle came first to me, Percy. In fact, I cannot stay long.

Even now the ocean is at war with itself. It is all I can do to keep hurricanes

and typhoons from destroying your surface world, the fighting is so intense.”

“Let me come down there,” I said. “Let me help.”

Poseidon’s eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Not yet, my boy. I sense you will

be needed here. Which reminds me…” He brought out a sand dollar and

pressed it into my hand. “Your birthday present. Spend it wisely.”

“Uh, spend a sand dollar?”

“Oh, yes. In my day, you could buy quite a lot with a sand dollar. I think

you will find it still buys a lot, if used in the right situation.”

“What situation?”

“When the time comes,” Poseidon said, “I think you’ll know.”

I closed my hand around the sand dollar, but something was really

bothering me.

“Dad,” I said, “when I was in the maze, I met Antaeus. He said…well, he

said he was your favorite son. He decorated his arena with skulls and—”

“He dedicated them to me,” Poseidon supplied. “And you are wondering

how someone could do something so horrible in my name.”

I nodded uncomfortably.

Poseidon put his weathered hand on my shoulder. “Percy, lesser beings do

many horrible things in the name of the gods. That does not mean we gods

approve. The way our sons and daughters act in our names…well, it usually

says more about them than it does about us. And you, Percy, are my favorite

son.”

He smiled, and at that moment, just being in the kitchen with him was the

best birthday present I ever got. Then my mom called from the living room.

“Percy? The candles are melting!”

“You’d better go,” Poseidon said. “But, Percy, one last thing you should

know. That incident at Mount St. Helens…”

For a second I thought he was talking about Annabeth kissing me, and I

blushed, but then I realized he was talking about something a lot bigger.

“The eruptions are continuing,” he said. “Typhon is stirring. It is very

likely that soon, in a few months, perhaps a year at best, he will escape his

bonds.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean—”

Poseidon raised his hand. “It is not your fault, Percy. It would’ve

happened sooner or later, with Kronos awakening the ancient monsters. But

be aware, if Typhon stirs…it will be unlike anything you have faced before.

The first time he appeared, all the forces of Olympus were barely enough to

battle him. And when he stirs again, he will come here, to New York. He

will make straight for Olympus.”

That was just the kind of wonderful news I wanted to get on my birthday,

but Poseidon patted me on the back like everything was fine. “I should go.

Enjoy your cake.”

And just like that he turned to mist and was swept out the window on a

warm ocean breeze.

* * *

It took a little work to convince Paul that Poseidon had left via the fire

escape, but since people can’t vanish into thin air, he had no choice but to

believe it.

We ate blue cake and ice cream until we couldn’t eat anymore. Then we

played a bunch of cheesy party games like charades and Monopoly. Tyson

didn’t get charades. He kept shouting out the answer he was trying to mime,

but it turned out he was really good at Monopoly. He knocked me out of the

game in the first five rounds and started bankrupting my mom and Paul. I

left them playing and went into my bedroom.

I set an uneaten slice of blue cake on my dresser. Then I took off my

Camp Half-Blood necklace and laid it on the windowsill. There were three

beads now, representing my three summers at camp—a trident, the Golden

Fleece, and the latest: an intricate maze, symbolizing the Battle of the

Labyrinth, as the campers had started to call it. I wondered what next year’s

bead would be, if I was still around to get it. If the camp survived until next

summer.

I looked at the phone by my bedside. I thought about calling Rachel

Elizabeth Dare. My mom had asked me if there was anyone else I wanted to

have over tonight, and I’d thought about Rachel. But I didn’t call. I don’t

know why. The idea made me almost as nervous as a door into the Labyrinth.

I patted my pockets and emptied out my stuff—Riptide, a Kleenex, my

apartment key. Then I patted my shirt pocket and felt a small lump. I hadn’t

even realized it, but I was wearing the white cotton shirt Calypso had given

me on Ogygia. I brought out a little piece of cloth, unwrapped it, and found

the clipping of moonlace. It was a tiny sprig, shriveled up after two months,

but I could still smell the faint scent of the enchanted garden. It made me sad.

I remembered Calypso’s last request of me: Plant a garden in Manhattan

for me, will you? I opened the window and stepped onto the fire escape.

My mom kept a planter box out there. In the spring she usually filled it

with flowers, but now it was all dirt, waiting for something new. It was a

clear night. The moon was full over Eighty-second Street. I planted the dried

sprig of moonlace carefully in the dirt and sprinkled a little nectar on it from

my camp canteen.

Nothing happened at first.

Then, as I watched, a tiny silver plant sprang out of the soil—a baby

moonlace, growing in the warm summer night.

“Nice plant,” a voice said.

I jumped. Nico di Angelo was standing on the fire escape right next to me.

He’d just appeared there.

“Sorry,” he said. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“That’s—that’s okay. I mean…what are you doing here?”

He’d grown about an inch taller over the last couple of months. His hair

was a shaggy black mess. He wore a black T-shirt, black jeans, and a new

silver ring shaped like a skull. His Stygian iron sword hung at his side.

“I’ve done some exploring,” he said. “Thought you’d like to know,

Daedalus got his punishment.”

“You saw him?”

Nico nodded. “Minos wanted to boil him in cheese fondue for an eternity,

but my father had other ideas. Daedalus will be building overpasses and exit

ramps in Asphodel for all time. It’ll help ease the traffic congestion.

Truthfully, I think the old guy is pretty happy with that. He’s still building.

Still creating. And he gets to see his son and Perdix on the weekends.”

“That’s good.”

Nico tapped at his silver ring. “But that’s not the real reason I’ve come.

I’ve found out some things. I want to make you an offer.”

“What?”

“The way to beat Luke,” he said. “If I’m right, it’s the only way you’ll

stand a chance.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Nico glanced inside my room. His eyebrows furrowed. “Is that…is that

blue birthday cake?”

He sounded hungry, maybe a little wistful. I wondered if the poor kid had

ever had a birthday party, or if he’d ever even been invited to one.

“Come inside for some cake and ice cream,” I said. “It sounds like we’ve

got a lot to talk about.”