Orestes: We are slaves to the gods. Whatever gods are.
Lila's father, when she was very young and naive; a girl who thought stars were the souls of the dead and storks delivered babies, once called her a little bird. Lila had asked him why - expecting some cruelty, half waiting for him to laugh or worse, ignore her as he usually did. Instead, he'd smiled and ruffled her messy blonde hair, brushed the dirt off her cheek. You haven't grown into your wings yet, he'd smiled. It was the first kind thing he'd ever said to her, and also the last. She didn't understand the analogy. She was a demigod, not a fairy, and he'd not even known about that. Neither of them had. And even if she could fly, Lila doesn't think she would like to. From her experience in dreams, it was daunting, and Lila is far more suited to the earth. Heights - she dislikes them as much as Percy. She's never even been on a plane.
On Daedalus's wall, there are several sets of wings, each designed slightly differently, as if they have been polished or intended for a specific person. Lila remembers Percy telling her of Icarus and Perdix. Perhaps the inventor creates these wings to save the children from his past. Perhaps he dreams of a time when they don't meet their unfortunate, unhappy endings.
There are also rows of jars of Greek fire, lined up on the walls. Scattered designs everywhere, amongst strange mechanisms that remind Lila of some kind of torture device. But it's the wings that catch her attention - there's something strange about them. They don't look ancient at all - there are adhesive straps, modern mechanisms that no Ancient Greek inventor could replicate. They look like something Hephaestus, or his children, would invent.
"Di immortals," Annabeth mutters, and Lila forgets her confusion in amusement at her friend, who is gaping. "He's a genius. Look at the curves on this building!"
(It looks like any other curved building to Lila, but she doesn't mention that. Percy looks equally mystified.)
"And an artist!" Rachel echoes. "These wings are amazing."
Daedalus has been here recently, Lila notes. His breakfast is half eaten on the table, along with an old cup of coffee - he'll soon be back, too. Lila wonders if there are any extra blueberry muffins - she's kind of hungry.
"Where are we?" Percy asks, looking out of the window skeptically.
"Colorado Springs," a voice interrupts from behind them. "The Garden of the Gods."
(It's not really a garden. She asked Annabeth about it once - its just a beautiful mess of sandstone formations that some man in the eighteen-hundreds thought was a fit place for the gods to assemble. Annabeth always said it was ironic that it was only after he named it that the gods migrated from Europe to America.)
It doesn't matter though, because standing above them is Quintus, their old instructor. His sword drawn.
Lila gapes. Quintus? Of all the people. Yes, he is a traitor, but he's so harmless. Percy told her he was good with a sword but Lila can't ever imagine being attacked by him. He just lacks the Machiavellian aura which a traitor ought to possess. Or smug arrogance, like Luke, or the tortured fury, like Ethan. Quintus is just . . . resigned.
"You," Annabeth says, which isn't really necessary. "What have you done with Daedalus?"
Quintus smiles with the corner of his mouth, which is somehow more intimidating. "Trust me, my dear. You don't want to meet him."
"Look, Mr Traitor," Annabeth growls, her face contorting in fury. Lila can see her fist clenching behind her back, gripping onto her favourite bronze knife. "I did not fight a dragon woman and a three bodied man and a psychotic Sphinx to see you. Now where is Daedalus?" Annabeth is scary when she wants to be.
Quintus walks down the stairs, still dressed in his Camp Half Blood T-shirt. Lila hates that she's wearing the same. It's somehow more insulting that he hasn't bothered to change after betraying them. It's like they don't even matter - they are just inconsequential to him. "You think I'm an agent of Kronos," he says. "That I work for Luke."
"Well, duh."
He smiles a little. "You're an intelligent girl, but you're wrong. I work only for myself."
"That's just a deluded way of saying you work for Luke," Lila retorts.
He doesn't reply, which is more of a confession than anything else. Somehow, the confirmation feels worse than the rebuttal.
"Luke mentioned you," Percy adds, and Lila can see the cogs whirling behind his eyes. "Geryon knew about you too. You've been to his ranch."
"I've been almost everywhere," Quintus replies, which doesn't sound like much of a defense to Lila. Normal demigods don't go making deals with three-bodied heretics. "Even here. The view changes from day to day. It's always some place high up. Yesterday it was from a skyscraper overlooking Manhattan. The day before that, there was a beautiful view of Lake Michigan. But it keeps coming back to the Garden of the Gods. I think the Labyrinth likes it here. A fitting name, I suppose."
Lila tilts her head. "How long have you been coming here?" Quintus doesn't answer. "So . . . you sent us on this quest to find Daedalus's workshop, but you knew where it was all along? Why not just end the quest before it started?"
"Is this an illusion?" Percy adds. "Out there?"
"No," Rachel half whispers. "It's real. We're really in Colorado."
Quintus turns to her skeptically. "You have clear vision, don't you? You remind me of another mortal girl I once knew. Another princess who came to grief."
"How old are you?" Lila frowns.
Quintus shrugs. "Age is hard to define."
She splutters. "No it's not, it's literally a number."
"Enough games," Percy agrees. "What have you done with Daedalus?"
"My boy," Quintus says patronisingly. "You need lessons from your friend in seeing clearly. I am Daedalus."
Percy's mouth drops open. Lila almost laughs in disbelief. Annabeth goes green, like she might throw up. Only Rachel seems undeterred, which Lila finds incredibly unfair, seeing as she's the only mortal.
"But you're not an inventor!" Percy splutters. "You're a swordsman."
"I am both. An an architect. And a scholar. I also play basketball very well. A real artist must be good at many things."
"That's true," Rachel agrees. Lila wishes she would stop agreeing with the enemy, even when they make a good point. Though, in fairness, Rachel doesn't have the same emotional investment that the other three do. Rachel hasn't been betrayed, again. "Like I can paint with my feet instead of my hands."
"You see?" Quintus gestures toward Rachel. "A girl of many talents."
"That's not even related," Lila tells him, even if it is. She couldn't care. "Anyway, Daedalus died thousands of years ago." He should have.
"You don't even look like Daedalus," Percy agrees. "I saw him in a dream, and . . . " he trails off.
"What?"
"Yes, you've finally guessed the truth."
Lila has definitely not guessed the truth. "What is he talking about?"
"You're - he's an automaton," Percy explains, looking disgusted. He's a sickly shade of green, pale as Nico. "He made himself a new body."
"Percy," Annabeth says, very slowly, looking pale. "That's not possible. That - that can't be an automaton."
Quintus laughs, the sound hollow, as if all life and humour has been carved out of him through years of jaded experience and pain. Lila wonders what would happen if she stabbed him. If he's an automaton, it wouldn't really kill him, would it? "Do you know what Quintus means, my dear?"
"The fifth, in Latin. But - "
"This is my fifth body." He raised his arm, pressing an invisible button. Part of his wrist opens - Lila flinches away, but there are only wires, glowing and whirring in mechanical harmony.
"That's amazing!" Rachel's eyes widen.
"That's weird." Percy adds.
"That's . . . not natural."
"That's horrible."
Annabeth is right, it's not natural. It goes against all the laws of nature. It's so wrong. Lila wants to leave. Suddenly the deceptive, harmless, heart of Daedalus's labyrinth reeks of everything against what they stand for - it pulses with the heart of a machinate prison, something alive but not.
The labyrinth; sentient, but unalive. Just like the inventor. They are one and the same, entangled together. The threads of Fate decreed it.
"I'm still very much Daedalus," Quintus - Daedalus - protests. "Our mother, Athena, never lets me forget that." He pulls at the collar of his shirt - beneath it, at the base of his neck, there's a dark red mark in the shape of a bird. Little bird.
Annabeth makes a noise of disgust. "A murderer's brand."
"For your nephew, Perdix," Percy guesses. "The boy you pushed off the tower."
With every story Lila hears about Daedalus, he grows a little worse in her eyes. This is the man who thought he could teach the newest generation of demigods? This is the man who the fate of their camp depends on? How do you trust a man like this?
Perhaps it is a curse, to be so clever. To see every possibility, to predict everything, to calculate the world so precisely. Perhaps it's not a coincidence every child of Athena struggles to balance their intelligence and their pride.
A shadow crosses Daedalus's face. Shame. "I did not push him, I simply - "
"Made him lose his balance. Let him die." Percy supplies.
That sounds a lot like pushing.
Quintus must know this, for he gives up his protests - surrendering any chance he had to redeem himself in their eyes. "I regret what I did, Percy. I was angry and bitter. But I cannot take it back, and Athena never lets me forget. As Perdix died, she turned him into a small bird—a partridge. She branded the bird's shape on my neck as a reminder. No matter what body I take, the brand appears on my skin."
Athena is remorseless. Lila would hate to get on her bad side. Then again, every story she hears of the gods either makes them sound prideful and furious or vengeful and cruel. Though; perhaps there is no difference between the two.
"You really are Daedalus," Percy marvels, impressed despite himself. "But why did you come to the camp? Why spy on us?"
"To see if your camp was worth saving," Quintus says. Lila bristles. "Luke had given me one story. I prefer to come to my own conclusions."
"So . . . you have talked to Luke."
"Several times. He is quite persuasive."
"Yeah," Lila interrupts. "And quite a good liar, too."
Annabeth nods, her cheeks flushing. "You can't let Luke through the maze, now that you've seen the camp. We need your help -"
Quintus places his sword down. It seems almost like a surrender; resignation to his fate. As if he's already given up, before the war has even begun. "The maze is no longer mine to control, Annabeth. I created it, yes. In fact, it is tied to my life force. But I have allowed it to live and grow on its own. That is the price I paid for privacy."
"Privacy from what?" Lila questions.
"The gods. Death. I have been alive two millenia, hiding from death."
Lila can hardly believe it. You can't hide from death, surely. Hades has eyes everywhere. The Furies are relentless. Even Persephone can be as cold and absolute as her husband, at times. The shadows whisper; she's dreamt it.
Percy echoes her statements aloud.
"They do not know everything," he answers. Lila is beginning to believe him, too. He speaks like a true child of Athena; knowledge is everything to him. If he doesn't know something, it can't exist. He lacks belief, she thinks. There is no faith in his life, only fact. "Or see everything. You have encountered them, Percy. You know this is true. A clever man can hide quite a long time, and I have buried myself very deep. Only my greatest enemy has kept after me, and even him I have thwarted. "
"Minos," Percy supplies.
"He hunts for me relentlessly. Now that he is a judge of the dead, he would like nothing better than for me to come before him so he can punish me for my crimes. After the daughters of Cocalus killed him, Minos's ghost began torturing me in my dreams. He promised that he would hunt me down. I did the only thing I could. I retreated from the world completely. I descended into my Labyrinth. I decided this would be my ultimate accomplishment: I would cheat death."
"And you did," Annabeth says, her tone impressed. Lila gawps; how can she respect a man like this? He's clever, yes, but he's so . . . wrong. "For two thousand years."
"But don't you think - " Lila hesitates, not wanting to say the words out loud. "Don't you think you would deserve it? I mean - not that Minos isn't a horrible person - well, a ghost - but you've killed people. Wouldn't you deserve punishment?"
"Perhaps I do," Daedalus says slowly. He looks at Lila apprehensively. As if he expects her to enact Hades' vengeance herself. "You're a very interesting person, Lila Bellerose. I don't envy your fate."
"What?" Lila ignores the comment; she can think about it later. Her fate isn't set in stone yet, surely. She's getting a little sick of people making allusions to her future. Her future is like any other future; formless, vague, undecided. And she doesn't see why all these ancient beings are taking it upon themselves to share their opinions on her life. Until Lila finds her mother, she won't believe a word deity speaks. If they can't share that simple truth then why should she trust them? "Why did you help us then, with the quest? If you only care about cheating death."
He doesn't answer for a moment. He studies her, meets her eyes, and Lila feels like she has passed a test. And then she sees his grey eyes turn, as he debates her question. He doesn't know the answer to her own questions, doesn't understand his feelings enough to answer yet. "I suppose I felt guilty," he says finally.
"About what?"
"That your quest would be in vain."
"What?" Annabeth splutters. Lila edges a little closer to Percy; she can see the shape of his hands in his pocket, where he is running his fingers over Riptide. Instinctively, she brushed the hairpin in her own hair, tucking it into her sleeve. He sees, meeting her eyes, and Lila knows that they understand each other. "You can still help us," Annabeth persists. "Give us Ariadne's string, so Luke can't get it."
"Yes...the string. I told Luke that the eyes of a clear-sighted mortal are the best guide, but he did not trust me. He was so focused on the idea of a magic item. And the string works. It's not as accurate as your mortal friend here, perhaps. But good enough. Good enough."
"Where is it?"
"With Luke," Quintus says, sympathy edging into his voice. "I'm sorry, my dear. But you are several hours too late."
A look of realisation, combined with horror, cross Percy's face. Lila is not sure what he has just realised, but she knows this; the camp will be under attack within the next few days. Quintus was Daedalus all along, and the man is an amoral, selfish automaton who only cares about himself. How did everything go so wrong, so fast?
"Kronos promised me freedom," Quintus explains. Lila doesn't want to hear it. She doesn't care; let the traitor do as traitors do. It's too late now, after all. "Once Hades is overthrown, he will set me over the Underworld. I will reclaim my son Icarus. I will make things right with poor young Perdix. I will see Minos's soul cast into Tartarus, where it cannot bother me again. And I will no longer have to run from death."
"Kronos doesn't intend to free anyone," Lila snaps. "Let alone a man who spent the better part of his natural life creating and worshiping the gods, one of the icons of Greek Mythology. He will kill you just to send a message. And you will no longer be running from death because you will be dead; we will all be dead." And hasn't Daedalus just signed their lives away?
"That's your brilliant idea?" Annabeth scoffs in agreement. "You're going to let Luke destroy your camp, kill hundreds of demigods, and then attack Olympus? You're going to bring down the entire world so you can get what you want?"
"Your cause is doomed, my dear. I saw that as soon as I began to work at your camp. There is no way you can hold back the might of Kronos."
"That's not true!"
"I am doing what I must," he says solemnly. "The offer was too sweet to refuse. . . I am sorry."
His apologies don't mean anything. What's an apology when you've doomed the world to burn?
Annabeth shoves over an easel, scattering paint and drawings over the floor. "I used to respect you. You were my hero! You—you built amazing things. You solved problems. Now...I don't know what you are. Children of Athena are supposed to be wise, not just clever. Maybe you are just a machine. You should have died two thousand years ago."
Daedalus says nothing, only hanging his head. It's somehow more sad, more pathetic to see him like this. He's just given up. What's the point of clinging to your life so desperately when you have nothing to live for? No faith, no moral, no meaning. Only the constant and endless trudge toward death. He's become nothing; a demigod, now a broken husk of a machine. Lila pities him, and hates him.
"You should warn your camp," he sighs. "Now that Luke has the string - "
Mrs O'Leary's ear prick up.
"Someone's coming!" Rachel warns.
The doors of the workshop open, echoing through the room. Garden of the Gods; more like a wasteland, and we are the weeds.
In marches Nico, chained. Just as furious as usual. Lila can see him glaring at everything that moves, especially the ghost beside him. Lila closes her hand around her spear. Kelli, and two giants follow.
Minos looks at Daedalus, as if everything else has been forgotten. Nobody else exists, only the sole subject for his existence, the reason he has held onto his past all these years. Revenge. "There you are, my old friend."
Daedalus raises an eyebrow, ignoring the king. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Luke sends his compliments," Kelli smiles. "Thought you might like to see your old employer, Minos."
"This was not part of our agreement."
Kelli takes a second to respond, staring at Lila, her mouth slightly open to bare her teeth. The wound on Lila's stomach aches, and she can almost feel Kelli's claws ripping through her once again. She refuses to look away. I am not afraid of her.
Almost as if Kelli notices the battle within Lila's mind, she smirks, before looking away.
"No indeed. But we already have what we want from you, and we have other agreements to honor. Minos required something else from us, in order to turn over this fine young demigod. " She runs a finger under Nico's chin; Nico, for his part, only looks disdainfully back at her, unphased. Lila had missed him, however much she pretends she hadn't. "He'll be quite useful. And all Minos asked in return was your head, old man."
Listen, Lila's not going to say she told him so, but . . .
"Treachery."
"Get used to it."
I am, Lila thinks. It's a sad thought. How is this her life?
"Nico," Percy interrupts. "Are you okay?" He squeezes Lila's hand, as if he can sense her anxiety.
Nico meets Lila's eyes, nodding somberly. "I'm sorry. Minos told me you were in danger. He convinced me to go back in the maze."
"You were trying to help us?"
"I was tricked," he justifies. "He tricked all of us."
Lila holds back a grin, despite the dire situation. Underneath it all, Nico really does care. He's just the same as he always has been, albeit a slight jaded and fury cast.
"Where's Luke?" Percy glares. "Why isn't he here?"
Kelli smiles, eyes twinkling with knowledge. "Luke is. . . busy. He is preparing for the assault. But don't worry, we have more friends on the way. And in the meantime, I think I'll have a wonderfurl snack!" Her fingernails elongate, sprouting claws. Her hair ablaze, the same shade as Rachel's but half as pretty, Kelli laughs maniacally, voice echoing a maddened craze for violence.
Percy and Annabeth make the first move, charging at Kelli, swords drawn. Rachel hurries over to the wings, frantically pulling them off the wall. Lila runs to Nico, who is surrounded by giants. Her spear spins into the hand with practiced ease, as she jabs it into the foot of the nearest giant. That's for knocking me out.
Nico struggles with his chains on the ground; Lila would help, but she's a little busy. Two giants have lunged for Daedalus, the other at Lila. Mrs O'Leary is chewing on the smaller one like it is her favourite toy, while the other smashes a table, sending Greek fire exploding everywhere, mystical green fumes diffusing into the atmosphere.
"Kill the inventor!" Minos shrieks. "Kill him."
I think they're trying, Lila bites her tongue. Minos is lucky he's a ghost. He's pretty useless.
Lila flings out a hand, and vines sprout from the few cracks in the wall, answering her call. She's kind of destroying the modernist design of Daedalus's workplace, but she's given up caring now. He deserves it, really. Controlling the vines is as easy as telling an extra limb what to do - they wrap around one giant, pulling it into the Greek fire. Lila keeps him trapped there, her will extending over the plants, until he dissolves into dust and ash. So do the vines. Ashes to ashes.
"To me!" Minos cries, raising his arms. "Spirits of the dead!"
The air thickens. Lila can sense the spirits pulling out of the Underworld, ripping at the barrier that keeps them out, the hum of their screams. They might look as though they're tens of metres in the air, but the Labyrinth is somewhere between the Underworld and the ground, and they are still in the Labyrinth. The dead and the living are closely entwined here.
"No!" Nico shouts back, discarding his chains.
"You do not control me, young fool." Minos sneers, his voice echoing disgust. "All this time, I have been controlling you! A soul for a soul, yes. But it is not your sister who will return from the dead. It is I, as soon as I slay the inventor!"
Really, Hades? This is who you made judge of the dead?
Spirits embody themselves around the ancient king; Cretan soldiers, sneering and hate faced. Armoured up, raising their rusty weapons. Lila recognises few of the distorted faces from her dream.
"I am the son of Hades!" Nico insists, obstinate as always. "Be gone!"
"You have no power over me!" The Cretan king cackles in reply. "I am the lord of the spirits! The ghost king!"
"No, I am." Nico draws his sword, stabbing it into the floor.
"Never!" Minos screams, as though he's answering a call that nobody else can hear. Lila sees Nico's eyes harden. "I will not - "
The windows cracks and shatters, glass flying everywhere in a shower of jagged stars, the air hissing as the ghosts dissipate. Minos is gone. For good?
Rachel shoves a pair of gilded wings into Lila's arms, allowing her no time to gloat in Nico's power or the prophecy being fulfilled. "Put these on, quick!" Kelli is nowhere to be seen; Lila hopes she's the pile of dust near Percy's feet.
Percy and Annabeth are already equipped with their wings.
Nico follows suit. "None of us know how to fly!"
There's no time to reply; Greek fire is spreading through the workshop, and Daedalus is preparing to retreat. Percy grins, manic excitement in his eyes, squeezing Lila's hand. The five leap into the air.
a/n: i cannot for the life of me spell "unnecessary" ngl
next chapter is so exciting omg omg i cannot wait it's what you've all been waiting for for like two years ngl <3333
i am back ! hopefully for good. definitely for a while. trying to find a healthy work / write relationship is exhausting but i need this fic to be finished ngl and im not even a fifth of the way through
tbh part of the reason it took so long to update is because this chapter is a bit of a filler??? i try to avoid fillers in general because i think they're a waste but leaving this out kind of didn't work because it's like the main reason for the quest and nico's whole story and the prophecy so i had to include it but it's not that relevant in regards to lila's story?? but the rest of this book is literally just lila ngl so much lila and percy content im very excited. this is literally the only chapter i wasn't looking forward to, literally all the rest of them are so exciting :)))
i feel like the way Lila speaks is too alike real speech - idk if it's boring but she does a lot of like, going back on her thoughts but I thought it worked but then i second guessed myself idk whatever. trying to write dyslexia and adhd is very hard - im trying to portray it in everything she does, because that's more what it's like; adhd isn't just "ooo can't concentrate" and dyslexia isn't just that you struggle to read, it's a lot more complex and it's part of who they are, i don't want to just use it as a plot point when it suits me, it's like, it affects their everyday life and how they see the world and how they speak and how they experience life, and that's how i want to portray it - constant. Of course some days it's worse and others it is better but at the root of it, it doesn't go away, it's a part of you
quote at the top from orestes by euripedes ! spent forever thinking about it and it kinda inspired some of the descriptions in this chapter so i might as well credit it lol.
lyra