This Dark Night ― Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase¹

―xix. never meet your heroes (the sequel)

"You don't have to act like that," Percy said.

"Like what?" Annabeth asked.

"Like... never mind." Percy laid down, and seemed to be out in seconds.

Naomi curled up, laying her head on her backpack. She watched the shadows dance on the marble, and pretended her father was there, keeping watch, too.

She fell asleep in minutes.

❊

Naomi woke to an earthquake.

Within seconds, everyone was up and running. They were almost to the far tunnel when a column next to them groaned and buckled. Naomi fashioned a dome of shadows over them as they ran, keeping the broken shards of marble from crashing on top of them.

They made it to the corridor. Naomi let down her shadow dome in time for them to watch the other columns topple. A cloud of white dust billowed over them, and they kept running.

"You know what?" Annabeth panted. "I like this way after all."

It wasn't long before they saw light up ahead.

"There," Rachel said.

They followed her into a stainless-steel hallway. Fluorescent lights glowed from the ceiling. The floor was a metal grate.

Naomi had gotten so used to the darkness that she had to squint. Her companions looked pale in the harsh illumination.

"This way," Rachel said, beginning to run. "We're close!"

"This is so wrong!" Annabeth said. "The workshop should be in the oldest section of the maze. This can't—"

She faltered, because they'd arrived at a set of metal double doors. Inscribed in the steel, at eye level, was a large blue Greek Δ.

"We're here," Rachel announced. "Daedalus's workshop."

❊

Annabeth pressed the symbol on the doors and they hissed open.

"So much for ancient architecture," Percy said.

Annabeth scowled. Together, they walked inside.

The first thing that struck Naomi was the daylight—blazing sunlight coming through giant windows. The workshop was like an artist's studio, with thirty-foot ceilings and industrial lighting, polished stone floors and workbenches. A spiral staircase led up to a second-story loft. Half a dozen easels displayed hand-drawn diagrams for buildings and machines that looked like Leonardo da Vinci sketches. Several laptop computers were scattered around on the tables. Glass jars of green oil—Greek fire—lined one shelf. There were inventions, too—weird metal machines Naomi couldn't understand. One was a bronze chair with a bunch of electrical wires attached to it, like some kind of torture device. In another corner stood a giant metal egg about the size of a man. There was a grandfather clock that appeared to be made entirely of glass, so you could see all the gears turning. And hanging on the wall were several sets of bronze and silver wings.

"Di immortals," Annabeth muttered. She ran to the nearest easel and looked at the sketch. "He's a genius. Look at the curves on this building!"

"And an artist," Rachel said in amazement. "These wings are amazing!"

Naomi walked to the window, Percy close behind. The view outside was amazing. There was a huge set of mountains in the distance (the Rocky Mountains, maybe? Naomi wasn't great at geography). They were high up in the foothills, at least five hundred feet, and, down below, a valley spread out, filled with a tumbled collection of red mesas and boulders and spires of stone.