The Battle of the Labyrinth (17 page)

“Maybe you can change things,” I said.

Eurytion narrowed his eyes. “How?”

“Be nice to the animals. Take care of them. Stop selling them for food. And stop dealing with the Titans.”

Eurytion thought about that. “That’d be all right.”

“Get the animals on your side, and they’ll help you. Once Geryon gets back, maybe he’ll be working for you this time.”

Eurytion grinned. “Now,
that
I could live with.”

“You won’t try to stop us leaving?”

“Shoot, no.”

Annabeth rubbed her bruised wrists. She was still looking at Eurytion suspiciously. “Your boss said somebody paid for our safe passage. Who?”

The cowherd shrugged. “Maybe he was just saying that to fool you.”

“What about the Titans?” I asked. “Did you Iris-message them about Nico yet?”

“Nope. Geryon was waiting until after the barbecue. They don’t know about him.”

Nico as glaring at me. I wasn’t sure what to do about him. I doubted he would agree to come with us. On the other hand, I couldn’t just let him roam around on his own.

“You could stay here until we’re done with our quest,” I told him. “It would be safe.”

“Safe?”
Nico said. “What do you care if I’m safe? You got my sister killed!”

“Nico,” Annabeth said, “that wasn’t Percy’s fault. And Geryon wasn’t lying about Kronos wanting to capture you. If he knew who you were, he’d do anything to get you on his side.”

“I’m not on anyone’s side. And I’m not afraid.”

“You should be,” Annabeth said. “Your sister wouldn’t want—”

“If you cared for my sister, you’d help me bring her back!”

“A soul for a soul?” I said.

“Yes!”

“But if you didn’t want my soul—”

“I’m not explaining anything to you!” He blinked tears out of his eyes.

“And I
will
bring her back.”

“Bianca wouldn’t want to be brought back,” I said. “Not like that.”

“You didn’t know her!” he shouted. “How do you know what she’d want?”

I stared at the flames in the barbecue pit. I thought about the line in Annabeth’s prophecy:
You shall rise or fall by the ghost king’s hand
. That had to be Minos, and I
had
to convince Nico not to listen to him. “Let’s ask Bianca.”

The sky seemed to grow darker all of a sudden.

“I’ve tried,” Nico said miserably. “She won’t answer.”

“Try again. I’ve got a feeling she’ll answer with me here.”

“Why would she?”

“Because she’s been sending me Iris-messages,” I said, suddenly sure of it.

“She’s been trying to warn me what you’re up to, so I can protect you.”

Nico shook his head. “That’s impossible.”

“One way to find out. You said you’re not afraid.” I turned to Eurytion.

“We’re going to need a pit, like a grave. And food and drinks.”

“Percy,” Annabeth warned. “I don’t think this is a good—”

“All right,” Nico said. “I’ll try.”

Eurytion scratched his beard. “There’s a hole dug out back for a septic tank. We could use that. Cyclops boy, fetch my ice chest from the kitchen. I hope the dead like root beer.”

TEN

WE PLAY THE GAME SHOW

OF DEATH

We did our summons after dark, at a twenty-foot-long pit in front of the septic tank. The tank was bright yellow, with a smiley face and red words painted on the side: HAPPY FLUSH DISPOSAL CO. It didn’t quite go with the mood of summoning the dead.

The moon was full. Silver clouds drifted across the sky.

“Minos should be here by now,” Nico said, frowning. “It’s full dark.”

“Maybe he got lost,” I said hopefully.

Nico poured root beer and tossed barbecue into the pit, then began chanting in Ancient Greek. Immediately the bugs in the woods stopped chirping. In my pocket, the Stygian ice dog whistle started to grow colder, freezing against the side of my leg.

“Make him stop,” Tyson whispered to me.

Part of me agreed. This was unnatural. The night air felt cold and menacing. But before I could say anything, the first spirits appeared. Sulfurous mist seeped out of the ground. Shadows thickened into human forms. One blue shade drifted to the edge of the pit and knelt to drink.

“Stop him!” Nico said, momentarily breaking his chant. “Only Bianca may drink!”

I drew Riptide. The ghosts retreated with a collective hiss at the sight of my celestial bronze blade. But it was too late to stop the first spirit. He had already solidified into the shape of a bearded man in white robes. A circlet of gold wreathed his head, and even in death his eyes were alive with malice.

“Minos!” Nico said. “What are you doing?”

“My apologies, master,” the ghost said, though he didn’t sound very sorry.

“The sacrifice smelled so good, I couldn’t resist.” He examined his own hands and smiled. “It is good to see myself again. Almost in solid form—”

“You are disrupting the ritual!” Nico protested. “Get—”

The spirits of the dead began shimmering dangerously bright, and Nico had to take up the chant again to keep them at bay.

“Yes, quite right, master,” Minos said with amusement. “You keep chanting. I’ve only come to protect you from these
liars
who would deceive you.”

He turned to me as if I were some kind of cockroach. “Percy Jackson…my, my. The sons of Poseidon haven’t improved over the centuries, have they?”

I wanted to punch him, but I figured my fist would go right through his face. “We’re looking for Bianca di Angelo,” I said. “Get lost.”

The ghost chuckled. “I understand you once killed my Minotaur with your bare hands. But worse things await you in the maze. Do you really believe Daedalus will help you?”

The other spirits stirred in agitation. Annabeth drew her knife and helped me keep them away from the pit. Grover got so nervous he clung to Tyson’s shoulder.

“Daedalus cares nothing for you, half-bloods,” Minos warned. “You can’t trust him. He is old beyond counting, and crafty. He is bitter from the guilt of murder and is cursed by the gods.”

“The guilt of murder?” I asked. “Who did he kill?”

“Do not changed the subject!” the ghost growled. “You are hindering Nico. You try to persuade him to give up on his goal.
I
would make him a lord!”

“Enough, Mions,” Nico commanded.

The ghost sneered. “Master, these are your enemies. You must not listen to them! Let me protect you. i will turn their minds to madness, as I did the others.”

“The others?” Annabeth gasped. “You mean Chris Rodriguez? That was
you?
”

“The maze is my property,” the ghost said, “not Daedalus’s! Those who intrude deserve madness.”

“Be gone, Minos!” Nico demanded. “I want to see my sister!”

The ghost bit back his rage. “As you wish, master. But I warn you. You cannot trust these heroes.”

With that, he faded into mist.

Other spirits rushed forward, but Annabeth and I kept them back.

“Bianca, appear!” Nico intoned. He started chanting faster, and the spirits shifted restlessly.

“Any time now,” Grover muttered.

Then a silvery light flickered in the trees—a spirit that seemed brighter and stronger than the others. It came closer, and something told me to let it pass. It knelt to drink at the pit. When it arose, it was the ghostly form of Bianca di Angelo.

Nico’s chanting faltered. I lowered my sword. The other spirits started to crowd forward, but Bianca raised her arms and they retreated into the woods.

“Hello, Percy,” she said.

She looked the same as she had in life: a green cap set sideways on her thick black hair, dark eyes and olive skin like her brother. She wore jeans and a silvery jacket, the outfit of a Hunter of Artemis. A bow was slung over her shoulder. She smiled faintly, and her whole form flickered.

“Bianca,” I said. My voice was thick. I’d felt guilty about her death for a long time, but seeing her in front of me was five times as bad, like her death was fresh and new. I remembered searching through the wreckage of the giant bronze warrior she’d sacrificed her life to defeat, and not finding any sign of her.

“I’m so sorry,” I said.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Percy. I made my own choice. I don’t regret it.”

“Bianca!” Nico stumbled forward like he was just coming out of a daze. She turned toward her brother. Her expression was sad, as if she’d been dreading this moment. “Hello, Nico. You’ve gotten so tall.”

“Why didn’t you answer me sooner?” he cried. “I’ve been trying for months!”

“I was hoping you would give up.”

“Give up?” He sounded heartbroken. “How can you say that? I’m trying to save you!”

“You can’t, Nico. Don’t do this. Percy is right.”

“No! He let you die! He’s not your friend.”

Bianca stretched out a hand as if to touch her brother’s face, but she was made of mist. Her hand evaporated as it got close to living skin.

“You must listen to me,” she said. “Holding a grudge is dangerous for a child of Hades. It is our fatal flaw. You have to forgive. You have to promise me this.”

“I can’t. Never.”

“Percy has been worried about you, Nico. He can help. I let him see what you were up to, hoping he would find you.”

“So it
was
you,” I said. “You sent those Iris-messages.”

Bianca nodded.

“Why are you helping him and not me?” Nico screamed. “It’s not fair!”

“You are close to the truth now,” Bianca told him. “It’s not Percy you’re mad at, Nico. It’s me.”

“No.”

“You’re mad because I left you to become a Hunter of Artemis. You’re mad because I died and left you alone. I’m sorry for that, Nico. I truly am. But you must overcome the anger. And stop blaming Percy for my choices. It will be your doom.”

“She’s right,” Annabeth broke in. “Kronos is rising, Nico. He’ll twist anyone he can to his cause.”

“I don’t care about Kronos,” Nico said. “I just want my sister back.”

“You can’t have that, Nico,” Bianca told him gently.

“I’m the son of Hades! I
can
.”

“Don’t try,” she said. “If you love me, don’t…”

Her voice trailed off. Spirits had started to gather around us again, and they seemed agitated. Their shadows shifted. Their voices whispered,
Danger!

“Tartarus stirs,” Bianca said. “Your power draws the attention of Kronos. The dead must return to the Underworld. It is not safe for us to remain.”

“Wait,” Nico said. “Please—”

“Good-bye, Nico,” Bianca said. “I love you. Remember what I said.”

Her form shivered and the ghosts disappeared, leaving us alone with a pit, a
Happy Flush
septic tank, and a cold full moon.

* * *

None of us were anxious to travel that night, so we decided to wait until morning. Grover and I crashed on the leather couches in Geryon’s living room, which was a lot more comfortable than a bedroll in the maze; but it didn’t make my nightmares any better.

I dreamed I was with Luke, walking through the dark palace on top of Mount Tam. It was a real building now—not some half-finished illusion like I’d seen last winter. Green fires burned in braziers along the walls. The floor was polished black marble. A cold wind blew down the hallway, and above us through the open ceiling, the sky swirled with gray storm clouds. Luke was dressed for battle. He wore camouflage pants, a white T-shirt, and a bronze breastplate, but his sword, Backbiter, wasn’t at his side—only and empty scabbard. We walked into a large courtyard where dozens of warriors and
dracaenae
were preparing for war. When they saw him, the demigods rose to attention. They beat their swords against their shields.

“Issss it time, my lord?” a
dracaena
asked.

“Soon,” Luke promised. “Continue your work.”

“My lord,” a voice said behind him. Kelli the
empousa
was smiling at him. She wore a blue dress tonight, and looked wickedly beautiful. Her eyes flickered—sometimes dark brown, sometimes pure red. Her hair was braided down her back and seemed to catch the light of the torches, as if it were anxious to turn back into pure flame.

My heart was pounding. I waited for Kelli to see me, to chase me out of the dream as she did before, but this time she didn’t seem to notice me.

“You have a visitor,” she told Luke. She stepped aside, and even Luke seemed stunned by what he saw.

The monster Kampê towered above him. Her snakes hissed around her legs. Animal heads growled at her waist. Her swords were drawn, shimmering with poison, and with her bat wings extended, she took up the entire corridor.

“You.” Luke’s voice sounded a little shaky. “I told you to stay on Alcatraz.”

Kampê’s eyelids blinked sideways like a reptile’s. she spoke in that weird rumbling language, but this time I understood, somewhere in the back of my mind:
I come to serve. Give me revenge.

“You’re a jailor,” Luke said. “Your job—”

I will have them dead. No one escapes me.

Luke hesitated. A line of sweat trickled down the side of his face. “Very well,” he said. “You will go with us. You may carry Ariadne’s string. It is a position of great honor.”

Kampê hissed at the stars. She sheathed her swords and turned, pounding down the hallway on her enormous dragon legs.

“We should have left that one in Tartarus,” Luke mumbled. “She is too chaotic. Too powerful.”

Kelli laughed softly. “You should not fear power, Luke. Use it!”

“The sooner we leave, the better,” Luke said. “I want this over with.”