CHIRON HAD INSISTED ON calling a war council the next morning.
They met in the sword arena, which Stella thought was pretty strange—trying to discuss the fate of the camp while Mrs. O'Leary chewed on a life-size squeaky pink rubber yak.
Chiron and Quintus stood at the front by the weapon racks. Clarisse, Stella, and Annabeth sat next to each other and led the briefing. Percy's gaze remained fixed on them, his pen dancing absently between his fingers. Meanwhile, Tyson and Grover sat as far away from each other as possible.
Also present around the table were Lee, Travis and Connor Stoll, Juniper the tree nymph, Silena Beauregard, Beckendorf, and even Argus, their hundred-eyed security chief.
Stella grasped the gravity of the situation as soon as she saw Argus. He seldom appeared unless something really major was going on. Throughout Annabeth's briefing, his hundred blue eyes remained unwaveringly fixed on her, the intensity turning his entire body bloodshot.
"Luke must have known about the Labyrinth entrance," Annabeth said. "He knew everything about camp."
Stella thought she heard a little pride in Annabeth's voice, as if she still harbored some respect for the asshole.
Juniper cleared her throat. "That's what I was trying to tell you last night. The cave entrance has been there a long time. Luke used to use it."
Silena frowned. "You knew about the Labyrinth entrance, and you didn't say anything?"
Juniper's face turned green. "I didn't know it was important. Just a cave. I don't like yucky old caves."
"She has good taste," Grover said.
"I wouldn't have paid any attention except...well, it was Luke." She blushed a little greener.
Grover huffed. "Forget what I said about good taste."
"Interesting." Quintus polished his sword as he spoke. "And you believe this young man, Luke, would dare use the Labyrinth as an invasion route?"
"Definitely," Clarisse said. "If he could get an army of monsters inside Camp Half-Blood, just pop up in the middle of the woods without having to worry about our magical boundaries, we wouldn't stand a chance. He could wipe us out easy. He must've been planning this for months."
"He's been sending scouts into the maze," Stella added solemnly. "We know because, well....we found one."
"Chris Rodriguez," Chiron said. He gave Quintus a meaningful look.
Quintus's face held a knowing expression. "Ah," he said, nodding slowly. "The one in the...Yes. I understand."
Percy leaned forward, curiosity etched across his features. "The one in the what?"
Clarisse shot him a glare. "The point is, Luke has been looking for a way to navigate the maze. He's searching for Daedalus's workshop."
Percy paused, his eyes widening in realization. "The guy who created the maze."
"Yes," Annabeth said. "The greatest architect, the greatest inventor of all time. If the legends are true, his workshop is in the center of the Labyrinth. He's the only one who knew how to navigate the maze perfectly. If Luke managed to find the workshop and convince Daedalus to help him, Luke wouldn't have to fumble around searching for paths or risk losing his army in the maze's traps. He could navigate anywhere he wanted—quickly and safely. First to Camp Half-Blood to wipe us out. Then...to Olympus."
The arena fell into a heavy silence, broken only by Mrs. O'Leary's toy yak getting disemboweled: SQUEAK! SQUEAK!
Finally, Beckendorf put his huge hands on the table. "Back up a sec. Annabeth, you said 'convince Daedalus.' Isn't Daedalus dead?"
Quintus grunted. "I would hope so. He lived, what, three thousand years ago? And even if he were alive, don't the old stories say he fled from the Labyrinth?"
Chiron clopped restlessly on his hooves. "That's the problem, my dear Quintus. No one knows. There are rumors...well, there are many disturbing rumors about Daedalus, but one is that he disappeared back into the Labyrinth toward the end of his life. He might still be down there."
"We need to go in," Annabeth announced. "We have to find the workshop before Luke does. If Daedalus is alive, we convince him to help us, not Luke. If Ariadne's string still exists, we make sure it never falls into Luke's hands."
"Wait a second," Percy said. "If we're worried about an attack, why not just blow up the entrance? Seal the tunnel?"
"Great idea!" Grover said. "I'll get the dynamite!"
"It's not so easy, stupid," Clarisse growled. "We tried that at the entrance we found in Phoenix. It didn't go well."
Annabeth nodded. "The Labyrinth is magical architecture, Percy. It would take huge power to seal even one of its entrances. In Phoenix, Clarisse demolished a whole building with a wrecking ball, and the maze entrance just shifted a few feet. The best we can do is prevent Luke from learning to navigate the Labyrinth."
"We could fight," Lee said optimistically. "We know where the entrance is now. We can set up a defensive line and wait for them. If an army tries to come through, they'll find us waiting with our bows."
"We will certainly set up defenses," Chiron agreed. "But I fear Clarisse is right. The magical borders have kept this camp safe for hundreds of years. If Luke manages to get a large army of monsters into the center of camp, bypassing our boundaries...we may not have the strength to defeat them."
The atmosphere in the room grew heavy with a collective unease. Chiron usually tried to be upbeat and optimistic. If he was predicting they couldn't hold off an attack, that wasn't good.
"We have to get to Daedalus's workshop first," Annabeth insisted. "Find Ariadne's string and prevent Luke from using it."
Percy's skepticism was evident in his voice. "But if nobody can navigate in there, what chance do we have?"
"I've been studying architecture for years," she said. "I know Daedalus's Labyrinth better than anybody."
He scoffed, "From reading about it."
Annabeth nodded reluctantly. "Well, yes."
"That's not enough," Percy retorted.
Sensing the rising tension, Stella interjected, "But what if it is?
Percy's gaze locked onto hers, resolute. "It isn't!"
Undeterred, Stella shot back. "Are you going to help us or not?"
Her gaze swept the onlookers, realizing everyone was watching the exchange with avid curiosity. Mrs. O'Leary's squeaky yak went EEK as she ripped off its pink rubber head.
Chiron cleared his throat. "First things first. We need a quest. Someone must enter the Labyrinth, find the workshop of Daedalus, and prevent Luke from using the maze to invade this camp."
"We all know who should lead this," Clarisse said. "Annabeth."
There was a murmur of agreement. Stella could see the conflict in Annabeth's grey eyes—the weight of anticipation and responsibility conflicting with a long-awaited desire for her own quest since childhood.
"You've done as much as I have, Clarisse," Annabeth countered. "You should go, too."
Clarisse shook her head. "I'm not going back in there."
Travis laughed. "Don't tell me you're scared. Clarisse, chicken?"
Clarisse got to her feet. Stella thought she was going to pulverize Travis, but she said in a shaky voice: "You don't understand anything, punk. I'm never going in there again. Never!"
With that declaration, she stormed out of the arena.
Travis looked around sheepishly. "I didn't mean to—"
Stella shot him a withering glare, her amber eyes burning with irritation at the insensitivity displayed. Stupid boys.
Chiron raised his hand. "The poor girl has had a difficult year. Now, do we have agreement that Annabeth should lead the quest?"
They all nodded except Quintus. He folded his arms and stared at the table, but Stella wasn't sure anyone else noticed.
There was something off about him. She just couldn't figure out what it was. Each time he spoke, a silent warning echoed in her gut.
"Very well." Chiron turned to Annabeth. "My dear, it's your time to visit the Oracle. Assuming you return to us in one piece, we shall discuss what to do next."
Waiting for Annabeth was harder than visiting the Oracle herself.
She absentmindedly fiddled with her necklace, the delicate lyre charm cool against her fingertips. Soon, boredom overcame her, and she moved on to her ring, then her shoelaces, and finally, her hair.
Patience was not exactly her strength.
Her gaze wandered, and she noticed Percy pacing the arena, mirroring her impatience. Mrs. O'Leary ate her lunch, which consisted of a hundred pounds of ground beef and several dog biscuits the size of trash-can lids. Chiron was deep in conversation with Quintus and Argus, the trio appearing to disagree about something—Quintus persistently shaking his head.
On the other side of the arena, Tyson and the Stoll brothers were racing miniature bronze chariots that Tyson had made out of armor scraps.
Stella's attention diverted when she noticed Percy slipping out of the arena.
Intrigued, she followed him, discovering him gazing across the fields at the Big House's attic window, shrouded in darkness and stillness.
What was taking Annabeth so long?
"Percy. Stella." A hushed voice reached them.
Juniper was standing in the bushes, her form almost blending into the greenery around her. Percy turned, registering their presence, and Stella joined his side.
With an urgent gesture, Juniper beckoned the demigods closer. "You need to know: Luke wasn't the only one I saw around that cave."
Percy's eyes narrowed in concern. "What do you mean?"
She glanced back at the arena. "I was trying to say something, but he was right there."
"Who?" He pressed.
An uneasy knot formed in Stella's stomach; she knew the answer before Juniper uttered it. "Quintus."
"Yes, the sword master," Juniper confirmed, lowering her voice. "He was poking around the rocks."
Percy mirrored Stella's anxious expression. "When?"
"I don't know. I don't pay attention to time. Maybe a week ago, when he first showed up."
"What was he doing? Did he go in?" He questioned.
"I—I'm not sure. He's creepy, Percy. I didn't even see him come into the glade. Suddenly he was just there. You have to tell Grover it's too dangerous—"
"Juniper?" Grover called from inside the arena. "Where'd you go?"
She sighed. "I'd better go in. Just remember what I said. Don't trust that man!" And then she ran back into the arena.
Stella exchanged a troubled glance with Percy, the weight of Juniper's revelation settling heavily between them.
"Fuck, I hate being right," She murmured to herself.
"What are we going to do?"
Stella stared at the Big House, feeling more uneasy than ever. "I don't want to burden Annabeth, but we should tell her."
He nodded in agreement, though his optimism sounded hollow. "We'll figure it out."
Their eyes remained locked on the Big House, quiet settling around them as they waited for some indication that Annabeth was all right.
"It shouldn't be taking this long, right?" Percy asked her.
Stella released a deep breath, her reply laced with a growing sense of apprehension, "No, usually it doesn't take this long."
A pause hung between them before Percy's fingers intertwined with hers, "Come on."
He tugged her along, their footsteps pounding on the ground as they raced down the hill and across the fields.
"Percy!" she exclaimed, the wind carrying her words away as he kept running until they reached the front parlor of the Big House.
It was strangely quiet. Stella was used to seeing Dionysus by the fireplace, playing cards and eating grapes and griping at satyrs, but Mr. D was still away.
Percy's hand held onto hers with a reassuring yet tense grip as they walked down the hallway, floorboards creaking under their feet. When they got to the base of the stairs, he hesitated. Four floors above would be a little trapdoor leading to the attic. Annabeth would be up there somewhere.
"Perce, we shouldn't be here," Stella whispered.
He turned his head to meet her gaze, opening his mouth to respond, but something interrupted him.
Sobbing. And it was coming from below them.
Percy crept around the back of the stairs, gently tugging her along. Stella had to stop him—she knew who those cries belonged to.
The door to the basement stood ajar. Stella tried to pull Percy back, her free hand gripping his bicep for added leverage, but he wouldn't budge.
There were two figures in the far corner, sitting amid a bunch of stockpiled cases of ambrosia and strawberry preserves. One was Clarisse. The other was a teenage Hispanic guy in tattered camouflage pants and a dirty black T-shirt. His hair was greasy and matted. He was hugging his shoulders and sobbing. It was Chris Rodriguez, the half-blood who'd gone to work for Luke.
"It's okay," Clarisse was telling him. "Try a little more nectar."
"You're an illusion, Mary!" Chris backed farther into the corner. "G-get away."
With a sorrowful but gentle tone, Clarisse corrected him, "My name's not Mary. My name is Clarisse. Remember. Please."
"It's dark!" Chris yelled. "So dark!"
"Come outside," Clarisse coaxed. "The sunlight will help you."
"A...a thousand skulls. The earth keeps healing him."
"Chris," Clarisse pleaded. It sounded like she was close to tears. "You have to get better. Please. Mr. D will be back soon. He's an expert in madness. Just hang on."
Chris's eyes were like a cornered rat's—wild and desperate. "There's no way out, Mary. No way out."
Then he caught a glimpse of Percy and made a strangled, terrified sound. "The son of Poseidon! He's horrible!"
Percy instinctively retreated, his back colliding with Stella's front. She hoped Clarisse hadn't noticed their presence. She listened for the telltale signs of Clarisse charging out to yell at him. Instead, she just kept talking to Chris in a sad pleading voice, trying to get him to drink the nectar.
Maybe she thought it was part of Chris's hallucination, but...son of Poseidon? Chris had been looking at Percy, and yet, why did she get the feeling he hadn't been talking about him at all?
And Clarisse's tenderness—it made sense to her why she was being so careful and attentive with Chris. She'd known him before he changed sides; they had been very close friends. And now he was shivering in a dark basement, afraid to come out, and mumbling about someone named Mary. No wonder Clarisse didn't want anything to do with the Labyrinth. What had happened to Chris in there?
Stella heard a creak from above—like the attic door opening—and she gripped Percy's hand tightly before running for the front door. They needed to get out of that house.
☀︎
"My dear," Chiron said. "You made it."
Stepping into the arena, Annabeth chose a stone bench, her gaze fixed downward.
"Well?" Quintus asked.
Annabeth's eyes briefly flickered to Stella. She wasn't sure if her look was a warning, but she was certain that her best friend was freaking the fuck out.
Then, she focused on Quintus. "I got the prophecy. I will lead the quest to find Daedalus's workshop."
Nobody cheered. While they all liked Annabeth and wanted her to have a quest, this one seemed insanely dangerous. After seeing Chris Rodriguez, Stella didn't even want to think about Annabeth descending into that maze.
Chiron scraped a hoof on the dirt floor. "What did the prophecy say exactly, my dear? The wording is important."
Annabeth took a deep breath. "I, ah...well, it said, You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze..."
They waited.
"The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise."
Grover perked up. "The lost one! That must mean Pan! That's great!"
"With the dead and the traitor," Percy added. "Not so great."
"And?" Chiron asked. "What is the rest?"
"You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand," Annabeth said, "the child of Athena's final stand."
Everyone looked around uncomfortably. Annabeth was a daughter of Athena, and a final stand didn't sound good.
"Hey...we shouldn't jump to conclusions," Silena said. "Annabeth isn't the only child of Athena, right?"
"But who's this ghost king?" Beckendorf asked.
No one answered.
"Are there more lines?" Chiron asked. "The prophecy does not sound complete."
Annabeth hesitated. "I don't remember exactly."
Chiron raised an eyebrow. Annabeth was known for her memory. She never forgot something she heard.
Annabeth shifted on her bench. "Something about...Destroy with a hero's final breath."
"And?" Chiron asked.
She stood. "Look, the point is, I have to go in. I'll find the workshop and stop Luke. And...I need help." She turned to Stella again. "Will you come?"
"Always. I'm surprised you even had to ask," Stella replied, a small smile playing on her lips.
Annabeth reciprocated the smile, the first glimmer of warmth that had graced her face in days. She turned to Percy and asked him the same question, awaiting his response.
Percy didn't even hesitate. "I'm in."
"Grover, you too? The wild god is waiting."
The satyr seemed to forget how much he hated the underground. The line about the lost one had completely energized him. "I'll pack extra recyclables for snacks!"
"And Tyson," Annabeth added. "I'll need you too."
"Yay! Blow-things-up time!" Tyson clapped so hard he woke up Mrs. O'Leary, who was dozing in the corner.
"Wait, Annabeth," Chiron interjected. "This goes against the ancient laws. A hero is allowed only two companions."
"I need them all," she insisted. "Chiron, it's important."
"Annabeth." Chiron flicked his tail nervously. "Consider well. You would be breaking the ancient laws, and there are always consequences. Last winter, five went on a quest to save Artemis. Only three came back. Think on that. Three is a sacred number. There are three Fates, three Furies, three Olympian sons of Kronos. It is a good, strong number that stands against many dangers. Five...this is risky."
Annabeth took a deep breath. "I know. But we have to. Please."
Stella could tell Chiron didn't like it. Quintus was studying them, like he was trying to decide which of them would come back alive.
Chiron sighed. "Very well. Let us adjourn. The members of the quest must prepare themselves. Tomorrow at dawn, we send you into the Labyrinth."
☀︎
Stella gently pushed the creaking door to the Athena cabin.
"Annie?" Her voice, though soft, echoed through the room, seeking her best friend. Silence clung to the air, inviting her to venture further.
The bunks were all pushed against one wall as if sleeping didn't matter very much. Most of the room was filled with workbenches, tables, and sets of tools and weapons. The back of the room was a giant library crammed with old scrolls, leather-bound books, and paperbacks. There was an architect's drafting table with a bunch of rulers and protractors and some 3-D models of buildings. Huge old war maps were plastered to the ceiling. Sets of armor hung under the windows, their bronze plates glinting in the sun.
Annabeth stood in the back of the room, rifling through old scrolls.
"Hey, wise girl," Stella said, waving her arm for the grey-eyed girl's attention.
She turned with a start. "Oh...hi. Didn't hear you."
Concern etched Stella's features. "You okay?"
Annabeth frowned at the scroll in her hands. "Just trying to do some research. Daedalus's Labyrinth is so huge. None of the stories agree about anything. The maps just lead from nowhere to nowhere."
Stella joined her side and put a comforting hand on her back. "You know we've got you every step of the way."
A subtle nod escaped the daughter of Athena. Her hair had come loose and was hanging in a tangled blond curtain all around her face. Her gray eyes looked almost black.
"I've wanted to lead a quest since I was seven," she said.
Stella's lips curved into a reassuring smile, "And you're going to absolutely crush it. No doubt."
Annabeth looked at her gratefully but then stared down at all the books and scrolls she'd pulled from the shelves.
"I should get back to my research," She murmured, her eyes remaining fixated on the worn pages before her.
"Okay," Stella said slowly. "But you held back the last line of the prophecy, why?"
She turned to look at her with frightful eyes, "Sometimes it is better to live in ignorance, Stella."
"What was it that could be so bad?"
Annabeth shook her head, "I can't tell you."
"Please, I want to help you. I have been training all spring for something like this." Stella pleaded.
The girl contemplated before letting out a heavy sigh, "and lose a love to worse than death."
Stella felt a shiver run down her spine, an uneasy chill settling in the air at Annabeth's cryptic words.
"I can't imagine facing something like that," Stella whispered, her empathy reaching out to her friend. "But you're not alone in this, Annabeth. We'll face whatever comes together."
"Thank you," She replied, training her eyes back on her books.
Stella watched as the blonde resumed her research, eyes scanning the old scrolls. "I'll leave you to it then."
Annabeth let out a small mhm, and so she took that as her cue to go.
Casting a worried glance behind her, Stella stepped out of the Athena cabin. She couldn't shake the lingering sense of foreboding that seemed to echo within its walls.
And lose a love to worse than death.
And lose a love to worse than death.
And lose a love to worse than death.
The words repeated in her mind as she returned to the Apollo cabin. What did it mean? Who they were going to lose?
"Elle?"
The sound of Percy's voice cut through her contemplation. She blinked, only now realizing he was seated on the porch steps of the Apollo cabin.
"Oh, Percy, hey."
She tried to shake her thoughts out of her head but it wasn't that easy. "Are you waiting for someone?"
"You, actually."
The afternoon sun cast a warm, golden hue over the camp as Stella took a seat next to Percy on the steps. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves of the nearby trees, carrying with it the distant sounds of camp activities.
The worry etched on her face did not escape his notice.
"What's on your mind?" he asked, his gaze searching hers.
Stella hesitated for a moment, the weight of the prophecy still heavy on her heart. "Just worried about Annabeth."
Percy nodded in understanding, his expression mirroring her concern. "Yeah, me too. But she's tough, and you are too. We'll find a way through. Together."
"I'm worried, Perce. Maybe Annabeth and I should just go alone."
"Hey," he said, his voice reassuring, "we're your friends. We wouldn't miss it."
"But..." She paused, the unspoken fear lingering in the air.
"What is it?" Percy asked. "The prophecy?"
"I'm sure it's fine," Stella said, her voice barely audible, the shadows in her amber eyes betraying a lingering doubt.
"What was the last line?" Percy pressed gently.
She felt the tears surfacing, threatening to spill over, and she tried to blink them back, holding onto the fragments of composure.
Percy scooted closer to her and their hips touched—a silent reassurance. He extended an arm over her shoulder, enveloping her in a protective embrace, turning her body into the refuge of his chest.
"Hey, it's...it's okay," Percy murmured soothingly, his hands tracing a comforting path down her back.
Feeling the comforting strength of Percy's arms around her, Stella hesitated for a moment before reciprocating the embrace. Slowly, she lifted her arms and wrapped them securely around him.
She felt the steady beat of his heart beneath her fingertips, a rhythmic echo that anchored her to the present moment. The warmth of his body pressed against hers; the scent of salt and sea clung to him.
"Chiron might be right," she confessed, a shiver coursing through her. "I don't know what else to do. We're breaking the rules...but it feels right."
Percy leaned in close, his whisper brushing against her ear, "Then don't worry about it. We've had plenty of problems before, and we solved them."
"This is different," Stella admitted, her words a soft exhale. "I don't want anything happening to...any of you."
Behind them, somebody cleared their throat. They had been so focused on each other that the creak of the door swinging open escaped them.
It was Lee. He stood there with a toothy grin on his face. "Um, sorry," he said, letting out a breathy laugh. "Archery practice is starting, sis. I'd cover for you but I'm training the younger ones today."
Percy inched away from her but kept his arm around her. "We were just talking," He said stupidly.
Lee stared at him. "Right," He said, drawing out the word.
"I'll be right there," Stella said, disentangling herself from Percy's embrace.
Lee winked at them before heading back into the cabin, closing the door behind him.
Stella rubbed her eyes. "You go ahead, water boy. I should gear up for archery."
Percy nodded, standing up from the porch steps, his gaze still laced with lingering questions. As he reached out a hand to help her up, he hesitated.
"Stella," He began, "about the prophecy. The line about a hero's last breath—"
"You're wondering which hero? I don't know."
"No. Something else. Annabeth told you, right? The last line?"
She took in a deep breath, "Percy—"
"It usually rhymes with the one before it. Was it something about—did it end in the word death?" His eyes searched hers, seeking answers buried within the shadows of prophecy.
Stella felt conflicted, torn between revealing the truth and the instinct to shield him from it. "You'd better go get ready for the quest. I'll—I'll see you in the morning."
With a silent nod, he left. As she watched his retreating figure, she couldn't shake the feeling that one of them wasn't going to come back from this quest alive.