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Chapter 40
Pallas Gets Trigger-Happy
Volume 4: The Battle of
the Labyrinth
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Rachel led them to a laundry room that smelt weird, but Pat figured it was the smell of rich people's blood-money underneath a hotel in New York City. The labyrinth entrance was behind a bin full of hotel towels, and Annabeth said that the mark of Daedalus looked faint; "It hasn't been used in a long time."
"I tried to open it once," Rachel said, "just out of curiosity. It's rusted shut."
"No." Annabeth stepped forward. "It just needs the touch of a half-blood."
Pat heard Annabeth touch the wall, and the metal door unsealed with a slow creak, hanging open on its old hinges. Beside him, Pallas said, "Stairs."
Pat shrugged, "We'll go slow."
"Wow." Rachel sounded calm, but Pat didn't believe it. And considering the god of Truth gave him weird prophetic powers with his blessing, Pat wouldn't be shocked if he could tell when Rachel was lying. "So...after you?" Rachel asked, and Pat thought her nerves were a bit obvious with that.
"You're the guide," Annabeth said with mock politeness. "Lead on."
"Play nice," Pat said easily, "We don't have much room for friendly fire," To Rachel, in front of him, he smiled and added, "If you're a friend."
"Guys!" Percy reprimanded.
"Sorry," Pat said, obviously not sorry, "Demigods don't trust easy."
The stairs led down to a large tunnel. Percy claimed that it was so dark that they couldn't see five feet in front of them, but they'd restocked on flashlights at Camp Half-Blood, so there wasn't a worry. (Other than all the usual worries about the maze—death, madness, etc.)
As soon as they switched the flashlights on, Rachel yelped. Pallas scrunched up his nose, "Cyclops."
Percy gulped, "Skeleton."
Pat summed up, "Cyclops skeleton."
"It's very old. It's not..." Annabeth briefly hesitated, "anybody we know."
It wasn't Tyson, she meant. They were all thinking of their missing friends. Two friendly monsters alone in the maze of the damned wouldn't last long, no matter how capable Tyson and Grover were.
Rachel swallowed. "You have a friend who's a Cyclops?"
"Tyson," Percy said. "My half-brother."
"Your half-brother?"
"Father's side," Pat shrugged.
"Hopefully we'll find him down here," Percy said sadly, "And Grover. He's a satyr."
"Oh." Her voice was small. "Well then, we'd better keep moving." She stepped under the skeleton's left arm and kept walking. The demigods followed Rachel deeper into the maze.
After ages, they came to a crossroads—Pat wasn't fond of those since his incident with Janus. Pallas seemed similarly uncomfortable, informing Pat of the three roads they could take; left, right, and middle, straight ahead.
Percy pointed one way, "That looks like the tunnel Tyson and Grover took with you guys," He said the last part to Pat and Pallas.
Annabeth frowned. "Yeah, but the architecture to the right–those old stones–that's more likely to lead to an ancient part of the maze, towards Daedalus's workshop."
YOU ARE READING
Prophesied Powder, PJO
Fanfiction(Atropos cuts the threads of Human Fate.) Pat was destined for something great. Apollo himself had said it. The only issue is, no one knows what he's meant to do or how he's involved in the so-called Great Prophecy. Percy is the only son of Posideon...
