𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐄

𝐗𝐗𝐕𝐈𝐈

As much as it seems like you own my heart
It's astronomy, we're two worlds apart

𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐦𝐲, conan gray

They made it a hundred feet before they were hopelessly lost.

The tunnel looked nothing like the one Percy and Selene had stumbled into before. Now it was round like a sewer, constructed of red brick with ironbarred portholes ever ten feet. Percy shined a light through one of the portholes out of curiosity, but they couldn't see anything. It opened into infinite darkness. Selene thought she heard voices on the other side, but it may have been just the cold wind.

Suddenly, a faint buzzing sound caught Selene's attention, and her hand instinctively shot to the back of her ear. It felt as though a searing hot metal had been pressed against her skin, like the branding of cattle on a farm. Within moments, the sensation vanished, leaving behind only a lingering itchiness. Glancing around, she searched any sign that someone had noticed, but to her relief, no one had.

Annabeth tried her best to guide them. She had this idea that we should stick to the left wall.

"If we keep one hand on the left wall and follow it," she said, "we should be able to find our way out again by reversing course."

Unfortunately, as soon as she said that, the left wall disappeared. They found themselves in the middle of a circular chamber with eight tunnels leading out, and no idea how they'd gotten there.

"Um, which way did we come in?" Grover said nervously.

"From the right," Selene pointed. Then, she put a little more thought into it, "Um, maybe left..."

"Just turn around," Annabeth said.

They each turned toward a different tunnel. It was ridiculous. None of them could decide which way led back to camp.

"Left walls are mean," Tyson said. "Which way now?"

"Selene, can you locate yourself using the moon position?" Annabeth asked her.

"Do you see any moon around us, Annabeth?"

Annabeth sighed, and then swept her flashlight beam over the archways of the eight tunnels. As far as Selene could tell, they were identical. "That way," she said.

"How do you know?" Percy asked.

"Deductive reasoning."

Selene chuckled, "Too many syllables to say you're just guessing."

"Oh shut up, you two freaks."

The tunnel she'd chosen narrowed quickly. The walls turned to gray cement, and the ceiling got so low that pretty soon they were hunching over. Tyson was forced to crawl.

Grover's hyperventilating was the loudest noise in the maze. "I can't stand it anymore," he whispered. "Are we there yet?"

"We've been down here maybe five minutes," Annabeth told him.

"It's been longer than that," Grover insisted. "And why would Pan be down here? This is the opposite of the wild!"

They kept shuffling forward. Just when Selene was sure the tunnel would get so narrow it would squish them, it opened into a huge room.

Percy shined his light around the walls and said, "Whoa."

The whole room was covered in mosaic tiles. The pictures were grimy and faded, but she could still make out the colors—red, blue, green, gold. The frieze showed the Olympian gods at a feast. There was Percy's dad, Poseidon, with his trident, holding out grapes for Dionysus to turn into wine. Zeus was partying with satyrs, and Hermes was flying through the air on his winged sandals. And then, she saw what should be herself, carrying the moon in a quadriga (four-horse chariot).

The pictures were beautiful, but they weren't very accurate. Selene had seen the gods. Dionysus was not that handsome, Hermes's nose wasn't that big, and she definitely didn't have those insanely big hooters.

In the middle of the room was a three-tiered fountain. It looked like it hadn't held water in a long time.

"What is this place?" Percy muttered. "It looks—"

"Roman," Annabeth said. "Those mosaics are about two thousand years old."

"But how can they be Roman?" Selene asked. She walked over to where her picture was, touching it. "Is it...?"

"Your counterpart, Luna," Annabeth nodded. "The Labyrinth is a patchwork. It's always expanding, adding pieces. It's the only work of architecture that grows by itself."

"Like... Like it's alive."

A groaning noise echoed from the tunnel ahead, causing everyone to freeze.

In a panic, Tyson clamped his hand over Selene's mouth, but it ended up covering half her face.

"I can't... breathe..." Selene's words were muffled by Tyson's hand.

"Shhh. Don't say again," he whispered urgently, his eyes wide with panic. "This word, you know."

Grover nodded. "Let's not talk about it being alive."

"All right," Annabeth said. "Forward."

"Down the hall with the bad sounds?" Tyson said. Even he looked nervous.

Selene removed her zip-up jacket, tying one end around her knapsack and offering the other end to Tyson.

"Take it, big boy," she said, offering the jacket to him. "Hold on tight and don't let go, okay? This way, you'll always be by my side."

Tyson didn't hesitate. He grabbed it and held like his life depended on it.

"The architecture is getting older," Annabeth said, analyzing the walls. "That's a good sign. Daedalus's workshop would be in the oldest part."

That made sense. But soon the maze was toying with them—they went fifty feet and the tunnel turned back to cement, with brass pipes running down the sides. The walls were spray-painted with graffiti. A neon tagger sign read MOZ RULZ.

"I'm thinking this is not Roman," Percy said helpfully.

Annabeth took a deep breath, then forged ahead.

Every few feet the tunnels twisted and turned and branched off. The floor beneath them changed from cement to mud to bricks and back again. There was no sense to any of it. They stumbled into a wince cellar—a bunch of dusty bottles in wooden racks—like they were walking through somebody's basement, only there was no exit above them, just more tunnels leading on.

It wasn't optimistic, but Selene found solace in one thing—none of them expected her to have all the answers (she didn't). It felt like they were just five friends going on an adventure together; like in some type of way, they were all equal. With Annabeth leading the way, Selene felt relieved that she wasn't under any more pressure than the rest of them.

Later the ceiling turned to wooden planks, and Selene could hear voices above them and the creaking of footsteps, as if they were walking under some kind of bar. It was reassuring to hear people, but then again, they couldn't get to them. They were stuck down here with no way out. Then they found their first skeleton.

He was dressed in white clothes, like some kind of uniform. A wooden crate of glass bottles sat next to him.

"A milkman," Annabeth said.

"Huh?" Percy asked.

"They used to deliver milk."

Percy shrugged. "Yeah, I know what they are, but... that was when Selene's mom gave birth to her, like a million years ago."

She shot him a playful glare. "Hey, you scumb—"

"Moving on," Grover interjected, "what's he doing here?"

"Probably delivering expired milk, I guess."

Selene rolled her eyes. "He must've milked it from you, Prissy."

"Percy is not a cow," Tyson told her, scratching his head.

"Some people wander in by mistake," Annabeth said, ignoring them. "Some come exploring on purpose and never make it back. A long time ago, the Cretans sent people in here as human sacrifices."

Grover gulped. "He's been down here a long time." He pointed to the skeleton's bottles, which were coated with white dust. The skeleton's fingers were clawing at the brick wall, like he had died trying to get out.

"Only bones," Tyson said. "Don't worry, goat boy. The milkman is dead."

Selene approached the skeleton, gently reaching out to touch what had once been its cheek. "Poor man," she muttered, yet her words were audible to all. "May he find peace."

She murmured a few words in Ancient Greek, and they all watched as the skeleton dissolved into dust.

Annabeth frowned, "How did you do that?"

"I don't know. I just did... like I already knew what to do."

"What did you say to him?" Percy questioned.

"A hymn," she replied. "I sensed his soul trapped within his body, so I set it free."

"The milkman didn't bother me," Grover said. "It's the smell. Monsters. Can't you smell it?"

Tyson nodded. "Lots of monsters. But underground smells like that. Monsters and dead milk people."

"Oh, good," Grover whimpered. "I thought maybe I was wrong."

"We have to get deeper into the maze," Annabeth said. "There has to be a way to the center."

She led them to the right, then the left, through a corridor of stainless steel like some kind of air shaft.

"Tyson, do you measure your poop in diameters?"

"Selene!"

"What?" She put her hands over her hips. "It's a fair question! Guy is massive."

"I don't measure," Tyson admitted. "Because I don't know what that is."

"Oh. Okay."

"Selene, that's bodyshaming."

"I'll give you something to be ashamed about, Prissy," she huffed. "By the way, why nobody talks about how you pee and poop during a quest? I mean, I don't need to, but did y'all see the amount the vegetables Grover ate yesterday?"

"I just ate two plates of chickpea enchiladas!"

"Great, just what we need," she said. "I swear to god, if you fart.."

Annabeth turned around, struggling to contain her laughter. "That one's good, I'll let it slide. But shut the fuck up."

"Yes, ma'am!" Selene exclaimed, giving her a salute, but it didn't take long for her to start chatting again. "If I could fall into the sky..." she murmured, side-eying Grover.

Grover returned the look with a raised eyebrow. "Do you think time would pass us by...?"

Her grin widened, and she pointed a finger at him. "'Cause you know I'd walk a thousand miles!"

"If I could just see you, oh, oh!"

"Hey, Tiffany and Latrell," Percy leaned closer to them, "Annabeth is about to slice your throats."

"I so am."

"Just so you know," Selene nudged Grover's elbow. "I'm Latrell."

They arrived back in the Roman tile room with the fountain. This time, they weren't alone.

What Selene noticed first were his faces. Both of them. They jutted out from either side of his head, staring over his shoulders, so his head was much wider than it should've been, kind of like a hammerhead shark's looking straight at him, all she saw were two overlapping ears and mirror-image sideburns.

He was dressed like a New York City doorman: a long black overcoat, shiny shoes, and a black top-hat that somehow managed to stay on his double-wide head.

"Well, Annabeth?" said his left face. "Hurry up!"

"Don't mind him," said the right face. "He's terribly rude. Right this way, miss."

Annabeth's jaw dropped. "Uh...I don't..."

Tyson frowned. "That funny man has two faces."

"The funny man has ears, you know!" the left face scolded. "Now come along, miss."

"No, no," the right face said. "This way, miss. Talk to me, please."

The two-faced man regarded Annabeth as best he could out of the corners of his eyes. It was impossible to look at him straight on without focusing on one side or the other. And suddenly they realized that's what he was asking—he wanted Annabeth to choose.

Behind him were two exits, blocked by wooden doors with huge iron locks. They hadn't been there their first time through the room. The two-faced doorman held a silver key, which he kept passing from his left hand to his right hand. The frieze of the gods looked exactly the same, but it looked like a completely different room.

Behind them, the doorway they'd come through had disappeared, replaced by more mosaics. They wouldn't be going back the way they came.

"The exits are closed," Annabeth said.

"Duh!" the man's left face said.

"Where do they lead?" she asked.

"One probably leads the way you wish to go," the right face said encouragingly. "The other leads to certain death."

"I—I know who you are," Annabeth said.

"Oh, you're a smart one!" The left face sneered. "But do you know which way to choose? I don't have all day."

"Why are you trying to confuse me?" Annabeth asked.

The right face smiled. "You're in charge now, my dear. All the decisions are on your shoulders. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I—"

"We know you, Annabeth," the left face said. "We know what you wrestle with every day. We know your indecision. You will have to make your choice sooner or later. And the choice may kill you."

The color drained out of Annabeth's face. "No...I don't—"

"Leave her alone," Percy exclaimed. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm your best friend," the right face said.

"I'm your worst enemy," the left face said.

"I'm Janus," both faces said in harmony. "God of Doorways. Beginnings. Endings. Choices."

"I'll see you soon enough, Perseus Jackson," said the right face. "But for now it's Annabeth's turn." He laughed giddily. "Such fun!"

"Shut up!" his left face said. "This is serious. One bad choice can ruin your whole life. It can kill you and all of your friends. But no pressure, Annabeth. Choose!"

"Don't do it," Percy exclaimed.

"I'm afraid she has to," the right face said cheerfully.

Annabeth moistened her lips. "I—I chose—"

Before she could answer, Tyson raised the edge of Selene's jacket, but the knapsack wasn't there anymore. And neither was she. "Where's Selene?"

"Here."

They all looked back, and a brilliant light flooded the room. Janus raised his hands to either side of his head to cover his eyes. When the light died, they could see Selene sitting by the fountain with a woman braiding her hair.

She was tall and graceful with long hair the color of chocolate, braided in plaits with gold ribbons. She wore a simple white dress, but when it moved, the fabric shimmered with colors like oil on water.

"Janus," she said, finishing off Selene's hair, sweeping to one side of her face and placing a flower on it, "are we causing trouble again?"

"N-no, milady!" Janus's right face stammered.

"Yes!" the left face said.

"Shut up!" the right face said.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked.

"Not you, milady! I was talking to myself."

"I see," the lady said. "You know very well your visit is premature. The girl's time has not yet come. So I give you a choice: leave these heroes to me, or I shall turn you into a door and break you down."

"What kind of door?" the left face asked.

"Shut up!" the right face said.

"Because French doors are nice," the left face mused. "Lots of natural light."

"Shut up!" the right face wailed. "Not you, milady! Of course I'll leave. I was just having a bit of fun. Doing my job. Offering choices."

"Causing indecision," the woman corrected. "Now be gone!"

The left face muttered, "Party power," then he raised his silver key, inserted it into the air, and disappeared.

"That was so cool," Selene exclaimed, turning back to face her. They had been laughing and giggling, oblivious to the tension gripping the rest of the room. "Janus is so cocky."

"I know, right?" the lady chuckled.

The woman turned toward them. Her eyes shined with power. Everyone, except Selene, seemed to be full of fear next to her. But then the woman smiled.

"You must be hungry," she said. "Sit with me and talk."

She waved her hand, and the old Roman fountain began to flow. Jets of clear water sprayed into the air. A marble table appeared, laden with platters of sandwiches and pitchers of lemonade.

"Who...who are you?" Percy asked.

"Don't be rude, Prissy," Selene turned to him. "That's my friend, Hera."

"Hera, as in...?"

The woman smiled. "Yes. The Queen of Heaven."

Selene had seen Hera before, at the Council of Gods, and she's never forgotten her face ever since.

Hera had advocated for her, and made Aphrodite apologize in front of everyone. She also stated Selene was more powerful than half of the Olympians. From that moment, she admired Hera more than any god—even more than she already admired Artemis.

Over the months they had brief encounters, usually when Hera stopped by for a visit. Though her stays were short, they always found time for tea and lighthearted conversation. Hera avoided discussing anything serious, like war or their fathers (Kronos and Hyperion), instead focusing on trivial topics. Selene even found out that Hera was a fan of Modern Family. In essence, Hera was just like any regular mom.

She often questioned herself if it was right, or why didn't Hera hold a grudge against her. Yet she often made remarks on old Selene, talking about her with such nostalgia it seemed they were at the very least, acquainted. If there was one thing Selene wished to remember more than anything in the world, was what happened between them and Zeus in the past—and why Hera didn't blame her, as she held accountable every other woman Zeus had crossed paths with.

She served them sandwiches and poured lemonade.

"Grover, dear," she said, "use your napkin. Don't eat it."

"Yes, ma'am," Grover said.

"Tyson, you're wasting away. Would you like another peanut butter sandwich?"

Tyson stifled a belch. "Yes, nice lady."

"Queen Hera," Annabeth said. "I can't believe it. What are you doing in the Labyrinth?"

Hera smiled. She flicked one finger and Annabeth's hair combed itself. All the dirt and grime disappeared from her face.

"I came to see you, naturally," the goddess said. Then, she turned to Selene. "So, as we were discussing before. Tell me about it once again—your memories were stolen through the Mist?"

"Yes. Then, they stored it, but when the jar broke, the memories were lost. It's almost like..."

"Like she died?" Hera finished her thought. Selene nodded. "I understand. Well, she didn't die, of course. She just... ceased to exist."

"That doesn't make it better."

Hera smiled. "Indeed," she said gently. "You see, I've been exploring memory manipulation through the Mist. You never know when it might be useful."

Selene grabbed a sandwich. "I've been thinking about it... do you think she complied by any chance?" Her voice was muffled by her chowing down on a turkey-and-Swiss sandwich and chips and lemonade.

She tilted her head, "Difficult to say... Selene was always ahead of everyone, always knew so much. In a way, she was above us all, and I often wondered what was happening inside her head—she saw everything at once," she mused. "But comply... If Selene was anything, it was loyal. She wouldn't have switched sides. Which begs the question, why didn't she avoid it, knowing it was coming?"

As they were talking, Tyson was inhaling one peanut butter sandwich after another, and Grover was loving the lemonade, crunching the Styrofoam cup like an ice-cream cone.

"I didn't think—" Annabeth faltered. "I'm sorry for interrupting. Well, I didn't think you liked heroes."

Hera smiled indulgently. "Because of that little spat I had with Hercules? Honestly, I got so much bad press because of one disagreement."

"Didn't you try to kill him, like, a lot of times?" Annabeth asked.

Hera waved her hand dismissively. "Water under the bridge, my dear. Besides, he was one of my loving husband's children by another woman. My patience wore thin, I'll admit it. But Zeus and I have had some excellent marriage counseling sessions since then. We've aired our feelings and come to an understanding—especially after that last little incident."

"You mean when he sired Thalia?" Percy guessed. As soon as he said the name of their friend, the half-blood daughter of Zeus, Hera's eyes turned toward him frostily.

"Prissy," Selene murmured, stepping on his foot, "shut the fuck up right now."

If there is one thing gods are, are sensible. Extremely delicate. Don't offend them, don't touch delicate subjects, don't be too close. It's almost an unspoken rule.

"Percy Jackson, isn't it? One of Poseidon's...children." Selene got the feeling she was thinking of another word besides children. "As I recall, I voted to let you live at the winter solstice. I hope I voted correctly."

She turned back to Annabeth with a sunny smile. "At any rate, I certainly bear you no ill will, my girl. I appreciate the difficulty of your quest. Especially when you have troublemakers like Janus to deal with."

Annabeth lowered her gaze. "Why was he here? He was driving me crazy."

"Trying to," Hera agreed. "You must understand, the minor gods like Janus have always been frustrated by the small parts they play in the universe. Some, I fear, have little love for Olympus, and could easily be swayed to support the rise of my father."

"Your father?" Percy asked. "Oh, right."

"We must watch the minor gods," Hera said. "Janus. Hecate. Morpheus. They give lip service to Olympus, and yet—"

"That's where Dionysus went," Selene remembered. "He was checking on the minor gods. And Apollo went hunting for the Titans."

"Indeed." Hera stared at the fading mosaics of the Olympians. "You see, in times of trouble, even gods can lose faith. They start putting their trust in the wrong things. They stop looking at the big picture and start being selfish. But I'm the goddess of marriage, you see. I'm used to perseverance. You have to rise above the squabbling and chaos, and keep believing. You have to always keep your goals in mind. We both have that in common, don't we, Lady Selene?"

Before Selene could say what the fuck does it means?, Annabeth asked, "What are your goals?"

She smiled. "To keep my family, the Olympians, together, of course. At the moment, the best way I can do that is by helping you. Zeus does not allow me to interfere much, I am afraid. But once every century or so, for a quest I care deeply about, he allows me to grant a wish."

"A wish?"

"Before you ask it, let me give you some advice, which I can do for free. I know you see Daedalus. His Labyrinth is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. But if you want to know his fate, I would visit my son Hephaestus at his forge. Daedalus was a great inventor, a mortal after Hephaestus's heart. There has never been a mortal Hephaestus admired more. If anyone would have kept up with Daedalus and could tell you his fate, it is Hephaestus."

"But how do we get there?" Annabeth asked. "That's my wish. I want a way to navigate the Labyrinth."

Hera looked disappointed. "So be it. You wish for something, however, that you have already been given."

"I don't understand."

"The means is already within your grasp." She looked at Percy. "He knows the answer."

"I do?"

"But that's not fair," Annabeth shouted. "You're not telling me what it is!"

Hera shook her head. "Getting something and having the wits to use it...those are two different things. I'm sure your mother Athena would agree."

She turned to Selene, and spoke into her mind. "What you've done is beyond grave, Selene. We do not interfere unless granted permission."

"Has Zeus already chosen my punishment?"

She searched for any trace of emotion in Hera's face, yet found none. "He won't punish you. Your case lies with the Fates."

Selene lowered her eyes. She wondered what was the worst thing the Fates could grant her.

Hera stared at her for a minute. "You're still a great interrogation in my head, Selene, just like you were before—though now for different reasonings," she said, ignoring Selene's question. "You seem like two entirely distinct individuals. One when you're among your people, and another when you're with them. It's as if you're playing two separate roles. Like..."

Like the Swan Queen.

"You can't escape your true nature. No matter how much you try to blend in with humans, in the end, you'll always be drawn back to your own kind."

"I'm not entirely sure what you're implying."

Hera smiled. "I hope you understand I'm on your side, even when we may disagree on your approaches. I hold you very dearly, I always will. Not many have heard those words from me." Gently, she lifted her hand and brushed the back of Selene's ear. "You asked if your punishment was chosen. Well, you will be judged under the council, yes, but that said punishment has already been given to you. I debated whether to tell you, but I realized you probably already sensed it. The moment you entered this Labyrinth, the Fates placed upon you the Moonstone Mark. It has a name, you know, because you've borne it once before."

The room rumbled like distant thunder.

Hera stood. This time, she didn't speak just in Selene's mind. "That would be my cue. Zeus grows impatient. Think on what I have said, Annabeth. Seek out Hephaestus. You will have to pass through the ranch, I imagine. But keep going. And use all the means at your disposal, however common they may seem."

She pointed toward the two doors and they melted away, revealing twin corridors, open and dark. "One last thing, Annabeth. I have postponed your day of choice, I have not prevented it. Soon, as Janus said, you will have to make a decision. Farewell!"

She waved a hand and turned into white smoke. So did the food, just as Tyson chomped down on a sandwich that turned to mist in his mouth. The fountain trickled to a stop. The mosaic walls dimmed and turned grungy and faded again. The room was no longer any place you'd want to have a picnic.

Annabeth stamped her foot. "What sort of help was that?"

"Don't say that," Selene murmured.

"'Here, have a sandwich. Make a wish. Oops, I can't help you!' Poof!"

"Poof," Tyson agreed sadly, looking at his empty plate.

"Annabeth, please don't say that," Selene's voice rose slightly in pitch. "She did help us."

"Well," Grover sighed, "she said Percy knows the answer. That's something."

They all looked at him, except for Selene. She kept her eyes locked at the hand Hera held.

"But I don't," he said. "I don't know what she was talking about."

Annabeth sighed. "All right. Then we'll just keep going."

"Which way?" Percy asked.

Grover and Tyson both tensed. They stood up together like they'd rehearsed it. "Left," they both said.

Annabeth frowned. "How can you be sure?"

"Because something is coming from the right," Grover said.

"Something big," Tyson agreed. "In a hurry."

"Left is sounding pretty good," Percy said, and they all started plunging into the dark corridor. Before he followed them, he turned back and saw Selene in what seemed like a trance. "What's up? We need to go."

She lifted her head. "Percy..."

He approached her, grasping her shoulders. "Hey, what happened? What did she tell you?"

"Percy, I think—I think... I..." she shook her head, then forced a smile. "It's nothing," she took his hand from her shoulder and held it. "Come on."

It was something. 

She just didn't want to tell anyone, especially him.

The good news: the left tunnel was straight with no side exits, twists, or turns. The bad news; it was a dead end. After sprinting a hundred yards, they ran into an enormous boulder that completely blocked their path. Behind them, the sounds of dragging footsteps and heavy breathing echoed down the corridor. Something—definitely not human—was on their tail.

"Tyson," Percy said, "can you—"

"Yes!" He slammed his shoulder against the rock so hard the whole tunnel shook. Dust trickled from the stone ceiling.

"Hurry!" Grover said. "Don't bring the roof down, but HURRY!"

Annabeth turned to Selene, "can you help us somehow?"

She seemd to be lost in thought. Her attention was totally elsewhere. "Uh, no... No direct interference, my bad."

"So you can come but you can't help," Annabeth murmured. "Nice."

The boulder finally gave way with a horrible grinding noise. Tyson pushed it into a small room and they dashed through behind it.

"Close the entrance!" Annabeth shouted.

They all got on the other side of the boulder and pushed. Whatever was chasing them wailed in frustration as they heaved the rock back into placed and sealed the corridor.

"We trapped it," Percy said.

"Or trapped ourselves," Grover corrected.

Selene turned. They were in a twenty-foot-square cement room and the opposite wall was covered with metal bars. They'd tunneled straight into a cell.

"What in Hades?" Annabeth tugged on the bars. They didn't budge. Through the bars they could see rows of cells in a ring around a dark courtyard—at least three stories of metal doors and metal catwalks.

"A prison," Percy said. "Maybe Tyson can break—"

His words were abruptly cut off by Selene's sudden groan. "No!" She clutched her head with both hands, her body instinctively curling in on itself as if in physical pain.

Annabeth reacted quickly, moving to support Selene by gripping her shoulders firmly. "What?"

"The voices," Selene managed to whisper, her voice strained.

The sound of deep sobbing echoed through the building from somewhere above them. Alongside it, there was another unsettling noise—a raspy voice muttering incomprehensible words. It was like rough stones tumbling together.

Tyson's eye widened. "Can't be."

"What?" Percy asked. He kept glancing between Tyson and Selene, trying to understand what was happening.

The voices seemed to have the same effect on them. Selene managed to steady herself as Tyson grabbed two bars on their cell door, benting them wide enough for even a Cyclops to slip through.

"Wait!" Grover called.

Selene wasn't about to wait. Both her and Tyson, who still held her jacket, began running towards the source of sound. Grover, Annabeth and Percy ran after them. The prison was dark, only a few dim fluorescent lights flickering above.

"I know this place," she heard Annabeth's voice muffled from behind. "This is Alcatraz."

"You mean that island is near San Francisco?" Percy asked.

"My school took a field trip here. It's like a museum."

They'd popped out of the Labyrinth on the other side of the country.

"Freeze," Grover warned.

But Tyson and Selene kept going. Grover grabbed his arm and pulled him back with all his strength, also making Selene stop. "Stop, you two!" he whispered. "Can't you see it?"

She looked where he was pointing, and her stomach did a somersault. On the second-floor balcony, across the courtyard, was the most horrible monster she'd ever seen. Selene only recognized her because of the stories Apollo told.

It was sort of like a centaur, with a woman's body from the waist up. But instead of a horse's lower body, it had the body of a dragon—at least twenty feet long, black and scaly with enormous claws and a barbed tail. Her legs looked like they were tangled in vines, but then Selene realized they were sprouting snakes, hundreds of vipers darting around, constantly looking for something to bite. The woman's hair was also made of snakes, like Medusa's.

Weirdest of all, around her waist, where the woman part met the dragon part, her skin bubbled and morphed, occasionally producing the heads of animals—a vicious wolf, a bear, a lion, as if she were wearing a belt of ever-changing creatures. She got the feeling she was looking at something half formed, a monster so old it was from the beginning of time, before shapes had been fully defined.

"Tyson," she turned back. "It's her, isn't it?"

"It's her," Tyson whimpered.

"Get down!" Selene shouted.

They crouched in the shadows, but the monster wasn't paying them any attention. It seemed to be talking to someone inside a cell on the second floor. That's where the sobbing was coming from. The woman started talking again, and Selene once more covered her ears.

"Stop," she whispered. "Make it stop."

"What's she saying?" Percy muttered. "What's that language?"

"The tongue of the old times." Tyson shivered. "What Mother Earth spoke to Titans and...her other children. Before the gods. That's why Selene understands."

"Wait, what?" he asked, then turned to Selene, "why...?"

"She is torturing someone through her words. Selene is absorbing it."

"Can you translate?"

Before Tyson could respond, Selene closed her eyes and began to speak in a horrible, raspy woman's voice. "You will work for the master or suffer."

Annabeth shuddered. "She does that too?"

Like all Cyclopes, Tyson had superhuman hearing and an uncanny ability to mimic voices. It was almost like he entered a trance when he spoke in other voices. Apparently, Selene had the same ability.

"I will not serve," she said in a deep, wounded voice. She switched to the monster's voice: "Then I shall enjoy your pain, Briares." Selene faltered when he said that name, and let out a strangled gulp. Then she continued in the monster's voice. "If you thought your first imprisonment was unbearable, you have yet to feel true torment. Think on this until I return."

The woman tromped toward the stairwell, vipers hissing around her legs like grass skirts. She spread wings—huge bad wings she kept folded against her dragon back. She leaped off the catwalk and soared across the courtyard. They crouched lower in the shadows. A hot sulfurous wind blasted Selene's face as the monster flew over. Then she disappeared around the corner.

She let out a gasp, her hand instinctively going to her neck, as if something was strangling her and finally let go.

"Are you okay?" Percy put his hand gently on her shoulder.

She nodded, yet didn't say anything. The pain was getting progressively less and less unbearable as if her body was adjusting itself to it. Yet still, she'd never felt something like this before.

"H-h-horrible," Grover said. "I've never smelled any monster that strong."

"Cyclopes' worst nightmare," Tyson murmured. "Kampê."

"Who?" Percy asked.

Tyson swallowed. "Every Cyclops knows about her. Stories about her scare us when we're babies. She was our jailer in the bad years."

Annabeth nodded. "I remember now. When the Titans ruled, they imprisoned Gaea and Ouranos's earlier children—the Cyclopes and the Hekatonkheires."

"The Heka-what?"

"The Hundred-Handed Ones," she said. "They called them that because...well, they had a hundred hands. They were elder brothers of the Cyclopes."

"Very powerful," Tyson said. "Wonderful! As tall as the sky. So strong they could break mountains!"

"Cool," Percy nodded. "Unless you're a mountain."

"Kampê was the jailer," he said. "She worked for Kronos. She kept our brothers locked up in Tartarus, tortured them always, until the Goddess Selene came. She killed Kampê and freed Cyclopes and Hundred-Handed Ones to help fight against the bad Titans in the big war. That's how she defeated Typhon."

"I did that?" She asked. Her voice was still slightly strained.

"With the help of Zeus," Tyson nodded. "You descended to Tartarus and killed her by yourself."

"And now Kampê is back," Percy said.

"Bad," Tyson summed up.

"So who's in that cell?" he asked. "Selene said a name—"

"Briares," she muttered.

Tyson perked up, "He is a Hundred-Handed One. They are as tall as the sky and—"

"Yeah," he said. "They break mountains."

Selene looked up at the cells above them. If he'd been enduring what she felt, she could easily understand why Briares was whining like a little kid.

"I guess we should check it out," Annabeth said, "before Kampê comes back."

As they approached the cell, the weeping got louder. When they first saw the creature inside, Selene wasn't sure what she was looking at. 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. He made Janus look downright normal.

His chest sprouted more arms than she 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.

"Either the sky isn't as tall as it used to be," Percy muttered, "or he's short."

Tyson didn't pay any attention. He fell to his knees.

"Briares!" he called.

The sobbing stopped.

"Great Hundred-Handed One!" Tyson said. "Help us!"

Briars looked up. His face was long and sad, with a crooked nose and bad teeth. He had deep brown eyes—completely brown with no whites or black pupils, like eyes formed out of clay.

"Run while you can, Cyclops," Briares said miserably. "I cannot even help myself."

"Briares!" Selene exclaimed. Her voice was higher than usual, and she had a composed face. "I am here to help you."

Briars wiped his nose with five or six hands. Several others were fidgeting with little pieces of metal and wood from a broken bed. It was amazing to watch. The hands seemed to have a mind of their own. They built a toy boat out of wood, then disassembled it just as fast. Other hands were scratching at the cement floor for no apparent reason. Others were playing rock, paper, scissors. A few others were making ducky and doggie shadow puppets against the wall.

"Lady Selene, just leave me here!" Briares moaned. "Just go help my brothers, warn them! Kampê is back! The Titans will rise and throw us back into Tartarus."

"Put on your brave face!" Tyson said.

Immediately Briares's face morphed into something else. Same brown eyes, but otherwise totally different features. He had an upturned nose, arched eyebrows, and a weird smile, like he was trying to act brave. But then his face turned back to what it had been before.

"No good," he said. "My scared face keeps coming back."

"How did you do that?" Percy asked.

Annabeth elbowed him. "Don't be rude. The Hundred-Handed Ones all have fifty different faces."

"Must make it hard to get a yearbook picture," he said.

"I won't leave you here, Briares. I will help you. I need you to tell me how I defeated Kampê at first."

Briares sniffled. "Do you have one hundred pens so I can write it down for you?"

Tyson was still entranced. "If you're getting a pen, can I have your autograph?"

"Guys," Grover interrupted. "We have to get out of here. Kampê will be back. She'll sense us sooner or later."

"The bars," Selene murmured, searching around. "I can try to break it."

"Briares can do it himself!" Tyson said, smiling proudly. "He is very strong. Stronger than Cyclopes, even! Watch!"

Briares whimpered. A dozen of his hands started playing patty-cake, but none of them made any attempt to break the bars.

"If he's so strong," Percy said, "why is he stuck in jail?"

Annabeth ribbed him again. "He's terrified," she whispered. "Kampê had imprisoned him in Tartarus for thousands of years. How would you feel?"

The Hundred-Handed One covered his face again.

"Briares?" Tyson asked. "What...what is wrong? Show us your great strength!"

"Tyson," Annabeth said, "I think you'd better break the bars."

Tyson's smile melted slowly.

"Come on, Briares," Selene said, smiling at him. "Let's get you out of here."

She held out her hand. For a second, Briares's face morphed to a hopeful expression. Several of his arms reached out, but twice as many slapped them away.

"I cannot," he said. "She will punish me."

"It's all right," Annabeth promised. "You fought the Titans before, and you won, remember?"

"I remember the war." Briares's face morphed again—furrowed brow and a pouting mouth. His brooding face, probably. "Lightning shook the world. We threw many rocks. The Titans and the monsters almost won. Now they are getting strong again. Kampê said so."

"Don't listen to her," Selene said. "I am on your side. My sister is on your side, too. The good Titans are awakening, Briares. We will fight them and win again."

He didn't move.

"You can't confront them, Lady Selene. Every one of my eyes beholds your mark. With it, victory against them will elude you."

This time, Selene didn't move.

"What does he mean?" Grover asked.

"One game of rock, paper, scissors," Percy blurted out. "If I win, you come with us. If I lose, we'll leave you in jail."

Annabeth looked at him like he was crazy. Selene shot him a glare. No way that motherfucker stole it from me, she thought.

Briares's face morphed to doubtful. "I always win rock, paper, scissors."

"Then let's do it!" He pounded his fist in his palm three times.

Briares did the same with all one hundred hands, which sounded like an army marching three steps forward. He came up with a whole avalanche of rocks, a classroom set of scissors, and enough paper to make a fleet of airplanes.

"I told you," he said sadly. "I always—" His face morphed to confusion. "What is that you made?"

He shrugged, "a gun."

It was a trick Selene had pulled on him months ago, when they were normal teenagers learning Math and deciding what takeout to order. Selene won Chipotle using the gun trick.

"A gun beats anything," she agreed.

"That's not fair."

"I didn't say anything about fair. Kampê's not going to be fair if we hang around. She's going to blame you for ripping off the bars. Now come on!"

Briares sniffled. "Demigods are cheaters. And Selene is their professor." But he slowly rose to his feet and followed them out of the cell.

All they had to do was get downstairs and find the Labyrinth entrance.

But then Tyson froze.

On the ground floor right below, Kampê was snarling at them.

"The other way!" Percy exclaimed.

They bolted down the catwalk. This time Briares was happy to follow them. In fact he sprinted out front, a hundred arms waving in panic. Behind them, Selene heard the sound of giant wings as Kampê took to the air.

She winced as Kampê unleashed a series of hisses and growls in their ancient tongue, prompting her to instinctively cover her ears once more.

"Shut up!" She screamed, while running.

A searing sensation spread through her body, as if flames were licking at her from within.

Percy turned watch her, and his eyes widened in horror. "Tyson, what is happening?"

"Kampê is cursing her," he said, taking breaths between each syllable. "Should not be that bad."

They scrambled down the stairs, through a corridor, and past a guard's station—out into another block of prison cells.

"Left," Annabeth said. "I remember this from the tour."

They burst outside and found themselves in the prison yard, ringed by security towers and barbed wire. After being inside for so long, the daylight almost blinded them. Tourists were milling around, taking pictures. The wind whipped cold off the bay. In the south, San Francisco gleamed all white and beautiful, but in the north, over Mount Tamalpais, huge storm clouds swirled.

The whole sky seemed like a black top spinning from the mountain where Atlas was imprisoned, and where the Titan palace of Mount Othrys was rising anew. It was hard to believe the tourists couldn't see the supernatural storm brewing, but they didn't give any hint that anything was wrong.

"It's even worse," Annabeth said, gazing to the north. "The storms have been bad all year, but that—"

"Keep moving," Briares wailed, a few of his arms holding Selene's shoulders. "She is behind us!"

They ran to the far end of the yard, as far from the cellblock as possible.

"Kampê's too big to get through the doors," Percy said hopefully.

Then the wall exploded.

Nice jinx, Percy Jackson.

Tourists screamed as Kampê appeared from the dust and rubble, her wings spread out as wide as the yard. She was holding two swords—long bronze scimitars that glowed with a weird greenish aura, boiling wisps of vapor that smelled sour and hot even across the yard.

"Poison!" Grover yelped. "Don't let those things touch you or..."

"Or we'll die?" Percy guessed.

"Well...after you shrivel slowly to dust, yes."

"Let's avoid the swords," Selene decided.

"Briares, fight!" Tyson urged. "Grow to full size!"

Instead, Briares looked like he was trying to shrink even smaller. He appeared to be wearing his shitting himself face.

Kampê thundered toward them on her dragon legs, hundreds of snakes slithering around her body.

Annabeth said what exactly what Selene was thinking: "Run."

That was the end of the debate. They ran through the jail yard and out the gates of the prison, the monster right behind them. Mortals screamed and ran. Emergency sirens began to blare.

They hit the wharf just as a tour boat was unloading. The new group of visitors froze as they saw the group charging toward them, followed by a mob of frightened tourists, followed by...Selene didn't know what they saw through the Mist, but it could not have been good.

"The boat?" Grover asked.

"Too slow," Tyson said. "Back into the maze. Only chance."

"We need a diversion," Annabeth said, then she turned to Selene. "Lemme guess: no direct interference?"

Her heart crawled into her throat.

She sighed. "I'm already fucked, ain't I?"

The burning sensation behind Selene's ear intensified, spreading slowly like a creeping flame down her back.

Selene ripped off the necklace from her chest, transforming it into her half-sword, half-katana. "I'll distract Kampê. You go ahead," she insisted, her voice firm.

Percy, breathless, reached for her wrist. "I'll help you."

Selene withdrew her hand. "No. You go. The poison may hurt me, but it won't kill."

"Are you sure? You can't fight her. The ancient laws..."

She glanced behind her shoulder, seeing Annabeth's, Grover's, and Tyson's worried looks. She knew what that lingering feeling meant, and decided to just ignore it. She hadn't gone all that way and risked so much to watch her friends die.

"Go, Perce. I'll just distract her, not kill."

"But... what if somethig happens? I don't want to lose you."

"Stop being cringe, you know I'm immortal," she said, shoving him away with her free hand. "I will meet you inside."

Annabeth, Grover, Percy and Tyson each took one of Briares's hands and dragged him toward the concession stands.

Selene bellowed and lowered her sword. "To hell with the ancient laws," she muttered under her breath.

She lunged at Kampê like a ray of moonlight. She'd been glaring at Briares, but Selene got her attention as soon as she nailed her in the chest with the sword, pushing her back into the wall.

Kampê stared at her with her eyes widened for a good second, as if she wasn't expecting Selene to be the one attacking her. Then, she went back to conscience and shrieked and slashed with her swords, trying to slice Selene's body. Poison dripped in pools all around her, sizzling into the cement.

Selene could easily kill her. She could use her powers, summon a burst of moonlight and easily turn Kampê into dust. She could turn into her true form. She could simply snap her fingers. Then again, this was just a distraction. Even though she kept breaking and breaking the laws, the burning sensation on her ear kept telling her not to take it too far.

Kampê's hair lashed and hissed, and the vipers around her legs darted their tongues in every direction. Selene had the worst idea she could've ever have.

She spotted a nearby Dippin' Dots stand and without a second thought, she leaped onto it, using it as a makeshift platform.

She launched herself into the air, hurtling towards Kampê's back. As she descended, Selene's hand clutched tightly to the tangles of Kampê's hair for stability, while her other hand brandished her sword tightly.

With a resounding roar, a lion burst forth from the grotesque half-formed faces encircling Kampê's waist. Selene landed squarely on Kampê's back, her grip unyielding as she swung her sword, slicing through the lion's heads.

"You can't kill me right now!" Kampê screamed in their ancient language. "Against the law!"

Selene managed to smile. "The law says no killing. Doesn't mention torturing."

She targeted joints and nerve clusters (if Kampê even has one of those), and the monster's movements became more erratic, her balance faltering as dizziness overcame her.

Selene looked around. She needed to find a way out.

It was like she'd just summoned him.

Tyson charged Kampê like a jousting knight, holding a metal lamppost.

Kampê managed to slash on his direction with her swords, slicing the pole to shreds.

"The hair!" Tyson screamed.

Selene held the little snakes on her hair and twisted it around.

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Kampê let out the second most horriful scream Selene had ever heard in her entire life.

The first one was when she burned Hyperion alive.

The monster's body curled enough for Selene to jump out of its back.

Meanwhile, Tyson ran into the Dippin' Dots stand and started throwing things at Kampê. Ice cream and poison exploded everywhere, all the little snakes in her hair dotted with tuttifrutti.

Selene rushed to Tyson's side, gripping his hand with all her strength. "Let's go, big guy!" she shouted over the din.

Tyson squeezed her hand tightly, his immense strength threatening to crush them both if Selene were human.

An angry roar echoed on their backs, yet neither of them looked back. Both Tyson and Selene ran on their friend's direction at full speed, with Kampê following closely behind. She was plastered in ice cream and T-shirts. One of the bear heads on her waist was now wearing a pair of crooked plastic Alcatraz sunglasses.

"Hurry!" Annabeth shouted, like any of them needed to be told that.

They finally found the cell where they'd come in, but the back wall was completely smooth—no sign of a boulder or anything.

"Look for the mark!" Annabeth shouted once again.

"There!" Grover touched a tiny scratch, and it became a Greek ∆. The mark of Daedalus glowed blue, and the stone wall grinded open.

Too slowly. Tyson and Selene were coming through the cellblock, Kampê's swords lashing out behind them, slicing indiscriminately through cell bars and stone walls.

Percy pushed Briares inside the maze, then Annabeth and Grover.

"You can do it!" Percy screamed at them, trying to sound hopeful.

But Kampê was gaining. She raised her swords.

Percy slapped my wristwatch and it spiraled into a bronze shield. Desperately, he threw it at the monster.

SMACK! The shield hit her in the face and she faltered just long enough for Selene to let go of Tyson's hand. Pointing her finger, she propelled him past Percy and into the maze.

"Mene!" Percy called out, extending his hand toward her. He knew that if the stone door were to close, it would crush his arm from the elbow. "Take my hand!"

Selene extended her hand as well. Kampê charged, but she was too late. Percy grabbed her hand desperately. Their fingers intertwined just in time, and as the stone door began to close, they were pulled into the maze together, tumbling and rolling along the floor in a frantic embrace.

The entire tunnel trembled with the force of Kampê's furious pounding against the barrier.

Finally coming to a stop, Selene had cradled Percy's head in her hand, shielding him from hitting his head on the hard ground. She took a look at him— his face bore a few scratches, but he was otherwise unharmed.

She let out a long sigh of relief, allowing her tense muscles to relax. Leaning closer, her forehead touched Percy's.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "You're squeezing me."

"Oops," Selene murmured, shifting slightly to ease the pressure on him.

"No, wait," Percy insisted, firmly grasping her arms to make her stop moving. Then, he slid his own around her back. "Just hold on... one more second."

For the first time (and the last) Selene was glad to be back in the Labyrinth. 

Author's Note:

any guesses on what Selene's mark means? well, Selene and I already kinda know what it means, hehe. 

I kinda wanted to make it a little secret, but I guess I gave too many hints and it's too obvious. 

either way, if anyone were to ask, I'd say the sad songs may start playing now. not entirely sad though, don't want to scare anyone out. 

but from now on, I guess it'll become more and more clearer how different they are, which saddens me a little but also makes me quite excited to see more of badass goddess Selene <3