The Labyrinth // pjo

Chapter Nine // Return of the Red Baron

"I dunno..."

"Well, she did, so suck it."

I was ready to throw my sandwich at him when Chiron interrupted us, "She will calm down. She's jealous, my boy."

"That's stupid," Percy shook his head at our mentor. "She's not...it's not like..."

Chiron stopped him with a chuckle, "It hardly matters. Annabeth is very territorial about her friends, in case you haven't noticed. She was quite worried about you and your sister. And now that you're both back, I think she suspects where you were marooned, Percy."

I looked between them–actually in the dark for the first time in a while, and I asked, "Wait, where were you?"

"Percy may explain it to you later, but for now..." The centaur sighed heavily. "We won't dwell on your choices. You came back. Both of you. That is what matters."

"Tell that to Annabeth," Percy muttered, annoyed.

Chiron smiled at my brother, "In the morning, I will have Argus take the three of you into Manhattan. You might stop by your mother's. She is...understandably distraught."

My stomach churned, and I sucked in a sharp silent breath as tears threatened to fall down my face at the thought of Mom being worried about us.

I had thought about her a lot during my time with Persephone–praying to the gods that they would allow her to know that we were okay, but I don't know if that worked.

I looked over at Percy and saw the guilt in his eyes, and I had a feeling he hadn't thought much about Mom wherever he had been.

"Chiron," Percy spoke again, "what about Grover and Tyson? Do you think—"

"I don't know, my boy." Chiron stared into the empty fireplace. "Juniper is quite distressed. All her branches are turning yellow. The Council of Cloven Elders had revoked Grover's searcher license in absentia. Assuming he comes back alive, they will force him into a shameful exile." He sighed again, his face aging seventy years as he did. "Grover and Tyson are very resourceful, however. We can still hope."

"I shouldn't have let them run off."

"Grover has his own destiny, and Tyson was brave to follow him. You would know if Grover was in mortal danger, don't you think?"

"I suppose. The empathy link. But—"

"There is something else I should tell you two," Chiron interrupted my brother from asking any more questions. "Actually, two unpleasant things."

I rubbed my eyes tiredly–suddenly aware of how fatigued I was, "Lovely. Spill the beans."

"Chris Rodriguez, our guest..."

My head snapped up, and I pinned Chiron, "Please tell me he's not dead."

I couldn't imagine how Clarisse was feeling if he was.

"Not yet," Chiron told me severely. "But he's much worse. He's in the infirmary now, too weak to move. I had to order Clarisse back to her regular schedule because she was at his bedside constantly. He doesn't respond to anything. He won't take food or drink. None of my medicines help. He has simply lost the will to live."

I moved back onto the couch–my fingers tapping in Morse code on my knee as I asked, "Have we heard anything from Mr. D?"

As the god of madness, I had had my theories he could help–but he had been gone for a while now, and no one was sure when he would return.