[Annabeth's POV]
What a mess of a morning.
Since I hadn't heard from Y/N in a while, I was going to meet him at the Jackson residence, and go see a movie. He didn't know it, but I wanted to get dinner after too.
As it turns out, Percy's messed up again, and he hasn't seen our friend in a month. I'd wanted to call them to see what was happening, but I figured that if Y/N didn't want to talk, it would probably be best to leave him be.
Now I was stewing angry in a taxi with the kid who just blew up a school. Again.
I'd been back to camp twice since Christmas, and was hoping to run into him there, but nothing. Chiron hadn't heard anything, nor Zoe, his cabin-mate and much older sister, and now Percy. I'd had a monster infested spring watching over Mt Tam, and now the person I was most looking forward to seeing might be stuck in a maze.
"Any word on Luke?" Percy asked.
I shook my head. That was always a touchy subject. When I was growing up, I always admired, or even liked Luke, and then he turned out to be a traitor, who sided with the evil titan lord Kronos. When we fought Luke on the titan's mountain last winter, he survived a fifty foot fall off a cliff. And now, as far as we all knew, he was licking his wounds on that cruise ship of his. The princess Andromeda.
It was full of monsters, not to mention the chopped up bits of Kronos reforming in a golden sarcophagus, waiting until he had enough power to re-form and challenge the gods of olympus. Not the best situation to be in.
"Mount Tam is still overrun with monsters," I filled Percy in. "I didn't try to go close, but I don't think Luke is up there. I think I would know if he was." Percy didn't look any more relieved about that than I was. Luke would not stay quiet if he was on the move. He never did.
"What about Grover?" Percy asked.
"He's at camp," I said. "We'll see him today."
"Did he have any luck? I mean, with the search for Pan?" I fingered at my bead necklace, something that was pointed out to me that I do when I'm nervous. "You'll see," I said. I didn't want to explain any further. Grover was struggling badly enough right now, and if I told Percy the whole story, he'd just make it worse.
"So you really haven't heard anything from Y/N?" Percy asked nervously. I shuddered and shook my head. Exactly a month ago I talked to him on the phone. The last thing I heard from him was something about blue eggs and ham. I tried to Iris Message him a couple days ago to make sure everything was alright, but I couldn't reach him.
"So we have no clue where he is. Great." Percy said sarcastically. I swallowed a dry lump in my throat. "I have an idea." I said. "Of course you do." Percy shrugged. "But if he is where I think he might be, it's not good. It's really not good."
It definitely wasn't. If he had been lost this whole time, there was no telling where he was. He could be in New Hampshire, Nevada, or even some other country. He might even be...
I was getting choked up just thinking about it.
As we headed through Brooklyn, Percy used my phone to call his mom. Half-bloods try not to use cell phones if we can avoid it, because throwing our voices over the radio-waves is like sending up a flare to the monsters: 'Here I am! Please eat me now!'
But I figured this call was important. He left a message on our home voice mail, trying to explain what had happened at Goode.
I got to listen, and he didn't do a very good job. He told his mom he was fine, she shouldn't worry, but he was going to stay at camp until things cooled down. And asked her to tell some guy named Paul Blofis I was sorry. He also informed her that Y/N wasn't with me like she thought.
We rode in silence after that. The city melted away until we were off the expressway and rolling through the countryside of northern Long Island, past orchards and wineries and fresh produce stands.
He stared at the phone number Rachel Elizabeth Dare had scrawled on his hand. She was a weird girl. It wasn't unheard of that some mortals could see through the mist, but to have one run into two demigods multiple times in the span of a few months, it probably wasn't a good sign.
The taxi exited on Route 25A. We headed through the woods along the North Shore until a low ridge of hills appeared on our left. I told the driver to pull over on Farm Road 3.141, at the base of Half-Blood Hill.
The driver frowned. "There ain't nothing here, miss. Are you sure you want out?" I nodded, saying, "Yes, please." and handed him a roll of cash. He didn't argue or ask any questions after that. Percy and I hiked to the crest of the hill, where our young dragon was resting, wrapped around Thalia's old home.
"Hey Peleus." I said as I scratched the dragon's chin. Steam hissed out of his nostrils like a teapot, and he went cross eyed. It's actually kind of funny how applicable dog obedience school is with most animals. Fetch, and scratches usually convinced most animals. "Keeping everything safe?" I asked, smiling sadly.
Peleus was the dragon the camp had hired to guard the golden fleece we retrieved a year back, and he had so far done a darn good job of it. Everything seemed alright according to the happy dragon.
Below us, Camp Half-Blood looked peaceful, green fields, forest, shiny white Greek buildings. The four-story farmhouse we called the Big House sat proudly in the midst of the strawberry fields. To the north, past the beach, the Long Island Sound glittered in the sunlight.
Still. I knew everything wasn't alright. The air was tense, like every living creature in the area was holding its collective breath. It was easy to understand why, with the looming threat of war at hand, and the constant worry about when Luke was going to attack the camp. Summer was in full swing, and it had been for about a week, so camp was running like normal.
The satyrs were playing their pipes in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow with woodland magic. Campers were having flying horseback lessons, swooping over the woods on their pegasi. Smoke rose from the forges, and hammers rang as kids made their own weapons for Arts & Crafts.
The rest of Athena and the Demeter teams were having a chariot race around the track, and over at the canoe lake some kids in a Greek trireme were fighting a large orange sea serpent. A typical day at camp.
"I need to talk to Clarisse," I told him. Percy gave me a strange look. And I understood why, since Clarisse was usually the last person I'd want to speak to, but this time it was needed. "What for?" Percy asked.
"We've been working on something," I said. "I'll see you later. And if my theory about Y/N is right, I need to know more." Clarisse was one of the few of us who had actually been down there and gotten out, so maybe she'd know how to find him.
"Working on what? What things?"
I glanced toward the forest. "I'll tell Chiron you're here. He'll want to talk to you before the hearing."
"What hearing?"
I didn't answer his question. I needed to come up with a way to tell Chiron that not only was Y/N missing, but he might be stuck in the labyrinth.
I was dreading his reaction.
* * *
[Percy's POV]
As I made my way through camp, I said hi to some of my friends. In the Big House's driveway, Connor and Travis Stoll from the Hermes cabin were hot-wiring the camp's SUV.
Silena Beauregard, the head counselor for Aphrodite, waved at me from her Pegasus as she flew past. I looked for Grover, but I didn't see him. I looked around for Zoe too, the former hunter, now camp resident, and the only other person who would stay in the Artemis cabin, but she wasn't there either.
Finally I wandered into the sword arena, where I usually go when I'm in a bad mood. Practicing always calms me down. Maybe that's because swordplay is one thing I can actually understand. I walked into the amphitheater and my heart almost stopped. In the middle of the arena floor, with its back to me, was the biggest hellhound I'd ever seen.
I mean, I've seen some pretty big hellhounds. One the size of a rhino tried to kill me when I was twelve. But this hellhound was bigger than a tank. I had no idea how it had gotten past the camp's magic boundaries. It looked right at home, lying on its belly, growling contentedly as it chewed the head off a combat dummy.
It hadn't noticed me yet, but if I made a sound, I knew it would sense me. There was no time to go for help. I pulled out Riptide and uncapped it.
"Yaaaaah!" I charged. I brought down the blade on the monster's enormous backside when out of nowhere another sword blocked my strike.
CLANG!
The hellhound pricked up its ears. "WOOF!"
I jumped back and instinctively struck at the swordsman. A gray-haired man in Greek armor. He parried my attack with no problem.
"Whoa there!" he said. "Truce!"
"WOOF!" The hellhound's bark shook the arena. "That's a hellhound!" I shouted.
"She's harmless," the man said. "That's Mrs. O'Leary." I blinked. "Mrs. O'Leary?"
At the sound of her name, the hellhound barked again. I realized she wasn't angry. She was excited. She nudged the soggy, badly chewed target dummy toward the swordsman.
"Good girl," the man said. With his free hand he grabbed the armored manikin by the neck and heaved it toward the bleachers. "Get the Greek! Get the Greek!"
Mrs. O'Leary bounded after her prey and pounced on the dummy, flattening its armor. She began chewing on its helmet. The swordsman smiled dryly. He was in his fifties. I guess, with short gray hair and a clipped gray beard. He was in good shape for an older guy. He wore black mountain-climbing pants and a bronze breastplate strapped over an orange camp T-shirt.
At the base of his neck was a strange mark, a purplish blotch like a birthmark or a tattoo, but before I could make out what it was, he shifted his armor straps and the mark disappeared under his collar.
"Mrs. O'Leary is my pet," he explained. "I couldn't let you stick a sword in her rump, now, could I? That might have scared her."
"Who are you?"
"Promise not to kill me if I put my sword away?"
"I guess."
He sheathed his sword and held out his hand. "Quintus." I shook his hand. It was as rough as sandpaper. "Percy Jackson," I said. "Sorry about- How did you, um-"
"Get a hellhound for a pet? Long story, involving many close calls with a death and quite a few giant chew toys. I'm the new sword instructor, by the way. Helping out Chiron while Mr. D is away."
"Oh." I tried not to stare as Mrs. O'Leary ripped off the target dummy's shield with the arm still attached and shook it like a Frisbee. "Wait, Mr. D is away?"
"Yes, well... busy times. Even Dionysus must help out. He's gone to visit some old friends. Make sure they're on the right side. I probably shouldn't say more than that."
If Dionysus was gone, that was the best news I'd had all day. He was only our camp director because Zeus had sent him here as a punishment for chasing some off-limits wood nymph. He hated the campers and tried to make our lives miserable. With him away, this summer might actually be cool.
On the other hand, if Dionysus had gotten off his butt and actually started helping the gods recruit against the Titan threat, things must be looking pretty bad.
Off to my left, there was a loud BUMP. Six wooden crates the size of picnic tables were stacked nearby, and they were rattling. Mrs. O'Leary cocked her head and bounded toward them.
"Whoa, girl!" Quintus said. "Those aren't for you." He distracted her with the bronze shield Frisbee. The crates thumped and shook. There were words printed on the sides, but with my dyslexia they took me a few minutes to decipher: 'Triple G Ranch. Fragile. This end up.'
Along the bottom, in smaller letters: 'Open with care. Triple G Ranch is not responsible for property damage, maiming, or excruciatingly painful deaths.'
"What's in the boxes?" I asked. "A little surprise," Quintus said. "Training activity for tomorrow night. You'll love it."
"Uh, okay," I said, though I wasn't sure about the "excruciatingly painful death" part. Quintus threw the bronze shield, and Mrs. O'Leary lumbered after it. "You young ones need more challenges. They didn't have camps like this when I was a boy."
"You- you're a half-blood?" I didn't mean to sound surprised, but I'd never seen an old demigod before. Quintus chuckled. "Some of us do survive into adulthood, you know. Not all of us are the subject of terrible prophecies."
"You know about my prophecy?"
"I've heard a few things."
I wanted to ask what few things, but just then Chiron clip-clopped into the arena. "Percy, there you are!"
He must've just come from teaching archery. He had a quiver and bow slung over his #1 CENTAUR T-shirt. He'd trimmed his curly brown hair and beard for the summer, and his lower half, which was a white stallion, was flecked with mud and grass. "I see you've met our new instructor." Chiron's tone was light, but there was an uneasy look in his eyes. "Quintus, do you mind if I borrow Percy?"
"Not at all, Master Chiron."
"No need to call me 'Master'," Chiron said, though he sounded sort of pleased. "Come, Percy. We have much to discuss."
I took one more glance at Mrs. O'Leary, who was now chewing off the target dummy's legs. "Well, see you," I told Quintus.
As we were walking away, I whispered to Chiron, "Quintus seemed kind of-"
"Mysterious?" Chiron suggested. "Hard to read?"
"Yeah." Chiron nodded. "A very qualified half-blood. Excellent swordsman, I just wish I understood..." Whatever he was going to say, he apparently changed his mind. "First things first, Percy. Annabeth told me you met some empousa."
"Yeah." I told him about the fight at Goode, and how Kelli had exploded into flames. "Mm," Chiron said. "The more powerful ones can do that. She did not die, Percy. She simply escaped. It is not good that the she-demons are stirring."
"What were they doing there?" I asked. "Waiting for me?"
"Possibly," Chiron frowned. "It is amazing you survived. Their powers of deception...almost any male hero would've fallen under their spell and been devoured."
"I would've been," I admitted. "Except for Rachel."
Chiron nodded. "Ironic to be saved by a mortal, yet we owe her a debt. What the empousa said about an attack on camp. Annabeth also tells me that neither of you have heard from Y/N in a month? We must speak of this further." I nodded solemnly.
Chiron's expression turned dark. The centaur trainer loved all of his campers a lot, but he definitely had favorites. He'd raised Y/N pretty much, and if he were to claim any of the campers as his children, it would be him and Annabeth.
"This is not good," he said. "Annabeth said the same thing." I replied. "If she is right, then we must not waste more time than we have to. But for now, come, we should get to the woods. Grover will want you there."
"Where?"
"At his formal hearing," Chiron said grimly. "The Council of Cloven Elders is meeting now to decide his fate."
* * *
Chiron said we needed to hurry, so I let him give me a ride on his back. As we galloped past the cabins, I glanced at the dining hall. An open-air Greek pavilion on a hill overlooking the sea. It was the first time I'd seen the place since last summer, and it brought back bad memories.
Chiron plunged into the woods. Nymphs peeked out of the trees to watch us pass. Large shapes rustled in the shadows, monsters that were stocked in here as a challenge to the campers.
I thought I knew the forest pretty well after playing capture the flag here for two summers, but Chiron took me a way I didn't recognize, through a tunnel of old willow trees, past a little waterfall, and into a glade blanketed with wildflowers.
A bunch of satyrs were sitting in a circle in the grass. Grover stood in the middle, facing three really old, really fat satyrs who sat on topiary thrones shaped out of rose bushes. I'd never seen the three old satyrs before, but I guessed they must be the Council of Cloven Elders.
Grover seemed to be telling them a story. He twisted the bottom of his T-shirt, shifting nervously on his goat hooves. He hadn't changed much since last winter, maybe because satyrs age half as fast as humans. His acne had flared up. His horns had gotten a little bigger so they just stuck out over his curly hair.
I realized with a start that I was taller than he was now. Standing off to one side of the circle were Annabeth, Zoe, another girl I'd never seen before, and Clarisse. Chiron dropped me next to them.
Clarisse's stringy brown hair was tied back with a camouflage bandanna. If possible, she looked even buffer, like she'd been working out. She glared at me and muttered, "Punk," which must have meant she was in a good mood.
Usually she says hello by trying to kill me.
Zoe looked different. Maybe it was because she had finally been allowed to age after being discharged from the hunters, but I wasn't complaining. She was prettier than she was in the winter, and, well, she was starting to change...
"Physically"
I'm... I'm not going to explain past that.
Annabeth had her arm around the other girl, who looked like she'd been crying. She was small, petite, I guess you'd call it, with wispy hair the color of amber and a pretty, elfish face. She wore a green chiton and laced sandals, and she was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief. "It's going terribly," she sniffled.
"No, no," Annabeth patted her shoulders. "He'll be fine, Juniper." Zoe grabbed her hand gently. "Grover will be perfectly alright. The council are a bunch of old sons of-" Annabeth stopped her from being profane with a cough. The blonde girl looked at me and mouthed the words 'Grover's girlfriend.'
At least I thought that's what she said, but that didn't make any sense. Grover with a girlfriend? Then I looked at Juniper more closely, and I realized her ears were slightly pointed. Her eyes, instead of being red from crying, were tinged green, the color of chlorophyll. She was a tree nymph. A dryad.
"Master Underwood!" the council member on the right shouted, cutting off whatever Grover was trying to say. "Do you seriously expect us to believe this?"
"B- but Silenus," Grover stammered. "It's the truth!"
The Council guy, Silenus, turned to his colleagues and muttered something. Chiron cantered up to the front and stood next to them. I remembered he was an honorary member of the council, but I'd never thought about it much. The elders didn't look very impressive. They reminded me of the goats in a petting zoo, huge bellies, sleepy expressions, and glazed eyes that couldn't see past the next handful of goat chow.
I wasn't sure why Grover seemed so nervous. Silenus tugged his yellow polo shirt over his belly and adjusted himself on his rosebush throne. "Master Underwood, for six months, six months, we have been hearing these scandalous claims that you heard the wild god Pan speak."
"But I did!"
"Impudence!" said the elder on the left. Grover bleated nervously. "I have people who can vouch for that. Zoe! Y/N!" The council guffawed. "As if we can trust their words! This girl is merely a former hunter. She has minimal connection to nature left." Zoe narrowed her eyes at the satyr and left him stuttering.
"A- a... And this Y/N you mention, has ignored our summons to testify for a month! We can not take their words for it."
"Now, Maron," Chiron said. "Patience."
"Patience, indeed!" Maron said. "I've had it up to my horns with this nonsense. As if the wild god would speak to... to him." Juniper looked like she wanted to charge the old satyr and beat him up, but Zoe, Annabeth and Clarisse held her back. "Wrong fight, girlie," Clarisse muttered. "Wait."
I don't know what surprised me more: Clarisse holding someone back from a fight, or the fact that she and Annabeth, who despised each other, almost seemed like they were working together.
"For six months," Silenus continued, "We have indulged you, Master Underwood. We let you travel. We allowed you to keep your searcher's license. We waited for you to bring proof of your preposterous claim. And what have you found in six months of travel?"
"I just need more time," Grover pleaded. "Nothing!" the elder in the middle chimed in. "You have found nothing."
"But, Leneus-"
Silenus raised his hand. Chiron leaned in and said something to the satyrs. The satyrs didn't look happy. They muttered and argued among themselves, but Chiron said something else, and Silenus sighed. He nodded reluctantly.
"Master Underwood," Silenus announced, "we will give you one more chance." Grover brightened. "Thank you!"
"One more week."
"What? But sir! That's impossible!"
"One more week, Master Underwood. And then, if you cannot prove your claims, it will be time for you to pursue another career. Something to suit your dramatic talents. Puppet theater, perhaps. Or tap dancing."
"But sir, I- I can't lose my searcher's license. My whole life-"
"This meeting of the council is adjourned," Silenus said. "And now let us enjoy our noonday meal!" The old satyr clapped his hands, and a bunch of nymphs melted out of the trees with platters of vegetables, fruits, tin cans, and other goat delicacies.
The circle of satyrs broke and charged the food. Grover walked dejectedly toward us. His faded blue T-shirt had a picture of a satyr on it. It read 'GOT HOOVES?'
"Hi, Percy," he said, so depressed he didn't even offer to shake my hand. "That went well, huh?"
"Those old goats!" Juniper said. "Oh, Grover, they don't know how hard you've tried!"
"There is another option," Clarisse said darkly.
"No. No." Juniper shook her head. "Grover, I won't let you."
His face was ashen. "I- I'll have to think about it. But we don't even know where to look." Annabeth shook her head weakly. "We may have to go in there anyway." she said. Grover's sad bleating voice croaked, "Why's that?"
"Y/N's missing." Grover's sad eyes widened, and he looked frightened. "You don't think..." Annabeth shook her head worriedly. Zoe looked immediately concerned. "Where could he have gotten in-"
"What are you guys talking about?" I interrupted.
In the distance, a conch horn sounded.
Annabeth pursed her lips. "I'll fill you in later, Percy. We'd better get back to our cabins. Inspection is starting."
* * *
It didn't seem fair that I'd have to do cabin inspection when I just got to camp, but that's the way it worked. Every afternoon, one of the senior counselors came around with a papyrus scroll checklist. Best cabin got first shower hour, which meant hot water guaranteed. Worst cabin got kitchen patrol after dinner.
The problem for me: I was usually the only one in the Poseidon cabin, and I'm not exactly what you would call neat. The cleaning harpies only came through on the last day of summer, so my cabin was probably just the way I'd left it on winter break: my candy wrappers and chip bags still on my bunk, my armor for capture the flag lying in pieces all around the cabin.
I raced toward the commons area, where the twelve cabins, one for each Olympian god, made a U around the central green. The Demeter kids were sweeping out theirs and making fresh flowers grow in their window boxes.
Just by snapping their fingers they could make honeysuckle vines bloom over their doorway and daisies cover their roof, which was totally unfair. I don't think they ever got last place in inspection. The guys in the Hermes cabin were scrambling around in a panic, stashing dirty laundry under their beds and accusing each other of taking stuff. They were slobs, but they still
had a head start on me.
I saw Zoe sweeping the last of the dirt out of the Artemis cabin, and this may be the first time I'd seen that door open. She waved in my direction with a smile, but went back to cleaning quickly. I'd never seen Zoe's living habits, but I'd have to bet her job was easier without Y/N being in there. He wasn't a slob, but he also wasn't exactly a germaphobe.
Over at the Aphrodite cabin, Silena Beauregard was just coming out, checking items off the inspection scroll. I cursed under my breath. Silena was nice, but she was an absolute neat freak, the worst inspector. She liked things to be pretty. I didn't do "pretty." I could almost feel my arms getting heavy from all the dishes I would have to scrub tonight.
The Poseidon cabin was at the end of the row of "male god" cabins on the right side of the green. It was made of gray shell-encrusted sea rock, long and low like a bunker, but it had windows that faced the sea and it always had a good breeze blowing through it.
I dashed inside, wondering if maybe I could do a quick under-the-bed cleaning job like the Hermes guys, and I found my half-brother Tyson sweeping the floor.
"Percy!" he bellowed. He dropped his broom and ran at me. If you've never been charged by an enthusiastic Cyclops wearing a flowered apron and rubber cleaning gloves, I'm telling you, it'll wake you up quick.
"Hey, big guy!" I said. "Ow, watch the ribs. The ribs."
I managed to survive his bear hug. He put me down, grinning like crazy, his single calf-brown eye full of excitement. His teeth were as yellow and crooked as ever, and his hair was a rat's nest. He wore ragged XXXL jeans and a tattered flannel shirt under his flowered apron, but he was still a sight for sore eyes.
I hadn't seen him in almost a year, since he'd gone under the sea to work at the Cyclops' forges. "You are okay?" he asked. "Not eaten by monsters?"
"Not even a little bit." I showed him that I still had both arms and both legs, and Tyson clapped happily. "Yay!" he said. "Now we can eat peanut butter sandwiches and ride fish ponies! Y/N can show me his sword. I want to see how it works! We can fight monsters and see Annabeth and make things go BOOM!" he said.
Y/N had two really weird weapons. One sword made of pure shadow, and another that looked and moved like it was made of moonlight. Tyson was always curious to see magical weapons.
I hoped he didn't mean we were going to do all this at the same time, but I told him absolutely, we'd have a lot of fun this summer. I couldn't help smiling, he was so enthusiastic about everything. Then I remembered that one of those things was currently impossible. Still, I shrugged and pulled my attention away.
"But first," I said, "we've gotta worry about inspection. We should..." Then I looked around and realized Tyson had been busy. The floor was swept. The bunk beds were made. The saltwater fountain in the corner had been freshly scrubbed so the coral gleamed.
On the windowsills, Tyson had set out water-filled vases with sea anemones and strange glowing plants from the bottom of the ocean, more beautiful than any flower bouquets the Demeter kids could whip up.
"Tyson, the cabin looks... amazing!" He beamed. "See the fish ponies? I put them on the ceiling!" A herd of miniature bronze hippocampi hung on wires from the ceiling, so it looked like they were swimming through the air. I couldn't believe Tyson, with his huge hands, could make things so delicate. Then I looked over at my bunk, and I saw my old shield hanging on the wall.
"You fixed it!"
The shield had been badly damaged in a manticore attack last winter. But now it was perfect again. Not a scratch. All the bronze pictures of my adventures with Y/N, Tyson, and Annabeth in the Sea of Monsters were polished and gleaming.
I looked at Tyson. I didn't know how to thank him. Then somebody behind me said, "Oh, my."
Silena Beauregard was standing in the doorway with her inspection scroll. She stepped into the cabin, did a quick twirl, then raised her eyebrows at me. "Well, I had my doubts. But you clean up nicely, Percy. I'll remember that."
She winked at me and left the room.
* * *
Tyson and I spent the afternoon catching up and just hanging out, which was nice after a morning of getting attacked by demon cheerleaders. We went down to the forge and helped Beckendorf from the Hephaestus cabin with his metalworking.
Tyson showed us how he'd learned to craft magic weapons. He fashioned a flaming double-bladed war axe so fast even Beckendorf was impressed.
While he worked, Tyson told us about his year under the sea. His eye lit up when he described the Cyclops' forges and the palace of Poseidon, but he also told us how tense things were. The old gods of the sea, who'd ruled during Titan times, were starting to make war on our father.
When Tyson had left, battles had been raging all over the Atlantic. Hearing that made me feel anxious, like I should be helping out, but Tyson assured me that Dad wanted us both at camp.
"Lots of bad people above the sea, too," Tyson said. "We can make them go boom."
After the forges, we spent some time at the canoe lake with Annabeth. She was really glad to see Tyson, but I could tell she was distracted. She kept looking at her feet, deep in thought, she was probably worried about the MIA Y/N.
I couldn't blame her. There were so many things going on already this summer.
Grover was nowhere to be seen, and I felt really bad for him. Finding the lost god Pan had been his lifelong goal. His father and his uncle had both disappeared following the same dream. Last winter, Grover had heard a voice in his head: I await you, a voice he was sure belonged to Pan, but apparently his search had led nowhere. If the council took away his searcher's license now, it would crush him.
And Y/N, well, if one of them would just buck up and ask the other one out, I had zero doubt in my mind that they would be an item really quickly. They'd been friends since they were seven, and last summer, I may or may not have ruined a moment between them on Olympus.
"What's this 'other way'?" I asked Annabeth. "The thing Clarisse mentioned?"
She picked up a stone and skipped it across the lake. "Something Clarisse scouted out. I helped her a little this spring. But it would be dangerous. Especially for Grover. And my thinking is that Y/N might be down there. All alone. If he is, we really need to hurry."
"Goat boy scares me," Tyson murmured. I stared at him. Tyson had faced down fire-breathing bulls and sea monsters and cannibal giants. "Why would you be scared of Grover?"
"Hooves and horns," Tyson muttered nervously. "And goat fur makes my nose itchy." And that pretty much ended our Grover conversation.
"And where is Y/N?" The cyclops asked. "We're not sure, buddy." I answered
"Y/N is missing?" Tyson asked, sounding genuinely concerned Annabeth nodded sourly. I knew she was very nervous about that. And I wasn't sure how I was going to explain it to Tyson. Mostly because I had no idea what the situation was.
* * *
Before dinner, Tyson and I went down to the sword arena. Quintus was glad to have company. He still wouldn't tell me what was in the wooden crates, but he did teach me a few sword moves. The guy was good. He fought the way some people play chess, like he was putting all the moves together and you couldn't see the pattern until he made the last stroke and won with a sword at your throat. It reminded me of Annabeth.
"Good try," he told me. "But your guard is too low." He lunged and I blocked. "Have you always been a swordsman?" I asked.
He parried my overhead cut. "I've been many things." He jabbed and I sidestepped. His shoulder strap slipped down, and I saw that mark on his neck, the purple blotch. But it wasn't a random mark. It had a definite shape, a bird with folded wings, like a quail or something.
"What's that on your neck?" I asked, which was probably a rude question, but you can blame my ADHD. I tend to just blurt things out. Quintus lost his rhythm. I hit his sword hilt and knocked the blade out of his hand.
He rubbed his fingers. Then he shifted his armor to hide the mark. It wasn't a tattoo, I realized. It was an old burn...like he'd been branded. "A reminder." He picked up his sword and forced a smile. "Now, shall we go again?"
He pressed me hard, not giving me time for any more questions. While he and I fought, Tyson played with Mrs. O'Leary, who he called the "little doggie." They had a great time wrestling for the bronze shield and playing Get the Greek. By sunset, Quintus hadn't even broken a sweat, which seemed kind of strange; but Tyson and I were hot and sticky, so we hit the showers and got ready for dinner.
I was feeling good. It was almost like a normal day at camp. Then dinner came, and all the campers lined up by cabin and marched into the dining pavilion. Most of them ignored the sealed fissure in the marble floor at the entrance. A ten-foot-long jagged scar that hadn't been there last summer, but I was careful to step over it.
"Big crack," Tyson said when we were at our table. "Earthquake, maybe?"
"No," I said. "Not an earthquake."
I wasn't sure I should tell him. It was a secret only Annabeth, Y/N, Grover, and I knew. But looking in Tyson's big eye, I knew I couldn't hide it from him.
"Nico di Angelo," I said, lowering my voice. "He's this half-blood kid we brought to camp last winter. He, uh... he asked us to guard his sister on a quest, and we failed. She died. Now he blames us."
Tyson frowned. "So he put a crack in the floor?" "These skeletons attacked us," I said. "Nico told them to go away, and the ground just opened up and swallowed them. Nico..." I looked around to make sure no one was listening. "Nico is a son of Hades."
Tyson nodded thoughtfully. "The god of dead people."
"Yeah."
"So the Nico boy is gone now?"
"I- I guess. I tried to search for him this spring. So did Annabeth. But we didn't have any luck. This is secret, Tyson. Okay? If anyone found out he was a son of Hades, he would be in danger. You can't even tell Chiron."
"The bad prophecy," Tyson said. "Titans might use him if they knew." I stared at him.
Sometimes it was easy to forget that as big and childlike as he was, Tyson was pretty smart. He knew that the next child of the Big Three gods, Zeus, Poseidon, or Hades, who turned sixteen was prophesied to either save or destroy Mount Olympus.
Most people assumed that meant me, but if I died before I turned sixteen, the prophecy could just as easily apply to Nico. "Exactly," I said. "So-"
"Mouth sealed," Tyson promised. "Like the crack in the ground."
* * *
[Annabeth's POV]
I had issues falling asleep. Which was odd, because I always slept well. I was kind of glad though, because last winter, Y/N had told me he had dreams about me holding up the sky, tired, ragged, and defeated. If I had a dream about him like that I might not be able to sleep again.
For half-bloods, our dreams are not normal. They're more like messages. They're either visions of things to come, or live feeds of something currently going on.
Eventually, I did finally drift off into Hypnos' hold. And my worst fears came to life. A prison cell shimmered before me.
Y/N was standing inside, and he looked awful.
His (H/C) hair was long and greasy, his face was covered in the uneven beginnings of facial hair.
He was cut and dirty, and his eyes were sunken and haggard, like he hadn't slept in days. Which he usually didn't. But this was different. He looked like he'd been moving for a month straight. He was skinny, and looked more tired than after he'd held up the sky.
His eyes didn't have that twinkle that always caught my eye when he looked at me. They looked dim.
Y/N was staring darkly into the halls past the prison cell door in front of him. It was closed, and that just further raised the question of why he was in a prison cell in the first place.
He cut through the bars with his glowing, silver sword, and tiptoed around the corner. I could hear loud sobbing from the upper levels. I knew Y/N could too, since his hearing was a lot better than mine. He took a shaky breath, before creeping up the stairs and giving me an eye full of the weirdest creatures I'd ever seen before.
He was human-size and his skin was very pale, the color of milk. He wore a loincloth like a big diaper. His feet seemed too big for his body, with cracked dirty toenails, eight toes on each foot. But the top half of his body was the weird part.
His chest sprouted more arms than I could count, in rows, all around his body. The arms looked like normal arms, but there were so many of them, all tangled together, that his chest looked kind of like a forkful of spaghetti somebody had twirled together. Several of his hands were covering his face as he sobbed.
"Woah..." Y/N whispered. Most of the heads looked up at him, while the others kept sobbing. "Who... Who are you?" echoed through the empty halls of the prison. "Y/N." he said softly. "What's your name?" The weird looking giant mumbled, "Briares."
Y/N's eyes lit up. "The hundred handed one? Great, that means you can help me out." Briares looked down at him, tears staining his eyes. "I can not help anybody." He cried. "Yes you can." Y/N whispered.
"Where am I?" He asked. Briares said, "A prison." Y/N's shoulders slumped, "I know that." he groaned. "Which one? Am I still in the United States, or-"
A hissing voice cried out. Some ancient language I couldn't quite understand. "Oh no. No no no no no." Briares cried out.
"What? Who is that?" Y/N panicked.
"You must run before she catches you!" Briares said. "Before who catches me??"
That hissing voice said something again, but louder, and closer. "Run!" he shouted again, before Y/N finally got the message and took off.
He turned and vaulted down the stairs and ran back to that jail cell again. I don't know why he was headed back there, but I wanted to shout for him to get out of the prison entirely.
Yet, I couldn't find my voice in the dream. It was like I wasn't even here, more like a silent observer. The stars were shining weakly through the barred windows of the jail as Y/N reached the ground floor.
From above, the hissing voice screeched, and a giant black mass crashed into the ground, blocking out all of the light. I couldn't see what he was seeing, but in the silver glimmer of the sky, I could see that Y/N looked terrified.
That scared me. Y/N was never very emotional aside from laughing and smiling. He never let you know if he was scared.
I wanted to yell, "RUN!" but again, I was powerless. I was halfway sure I knew where he was, but this dream wasn't telling me anything besides the fact that he was alive right now. That was a small comfort, but I also didn't know just how long it would last.
Y/N jumped back as the giant mass swiped out at him, but he wasn't moving as fast as he usually did.
The dark figure cut into his side. Violent, green ooze dripped off of the figure's hands as Y/N shuddered and fell to his knees. The monster hissed. And I didn't need a translation to know it said something bad.
Y/N grabbed his side, grimacing, before gaining a sudden look of determination and charging the figure. He leapt forward, through the slashing blades as they went spiraling and got caught into the wall.
He tumbled to the ground behind the monster, very roughly, groaning in pain, and hurried to his feet, scrambling back into the jail cell, groping aimlessly at the wall, before something went click, and a door opened up from the stone.
He looked relieved, and it was then that I realized my theory was correct. Y/N stumbled and leapt back into the Labyrinth as his attacker made one final desperate lunge for him.
I sat bolt upright, realizing that sweat was dripping down my forehead. I wiped my hair to the side, and felt like hurling. He was poisoned, and wandering through the most difficult maze ever invented, with no clear way out.
I swallowed a dry lump in my throat, and tried to figure out just exactly how to tell the others my theory was right.
This was one of the first times I was worried about that.