The Battle of the Labyrinth pjato-4

by Rick Riordan

  “So your dad and Athena…so you weren’t…”

  “I was a brain child,” Annabeth said. “Literally. Children of Athena are sprung from the divine thoughts of our mother and the mortal ingenuity of our father. We are supposed to be a gift, a blessing from Athena on the men she favors.”

  “But—”

  “Percy, the spider’s getting away. Do you really want me to explain the exact details of how I was born?”

  “Um…no. That’s okay.”

  She smirked. “I thought not.” And she ran ahead. I followed, but I wasn’t sure I would ever look at Annabeth the same way again. I decided some things were better left as mysteries.

  The roaring got louder. After another half mile or so, we emerged in a cavern the size of a Super Bowl stadium. Our spider escort stopped and curled into a ball. We had arrived at the forge of Hephaestus. There was no floor, just bubbling lava hundreds of feet below. We stood on a rock ridge that circled the cavern. A network of metal bridges spanned across it. At the center was a huge platform with all sorts of machines, cauldrons, forges, and the largest anvil I’d ever seen—a block of iron the size of a house. Creatures moved around the platform—several strange, dark shapes, but they were too far away to make out details.

  Annabeth picked up the metal spider and slipped it into her pocket. “I can. Wait here.”

  “Hold it!” I said, but before I could argue, she put on her Yankees cap and turned invisible.

  I didn’t dare call after her, but I didn’t like the idea of her approaching the forge on her own. If those things out there could sense a god coming, would Annabeth be safe?

  I looked back at the Labyrinth tunnel. I missed Grover and Tyson already. Finally I decided I couldn’t stay put. I crept along the outer rim of the lava lake, hoping I could get a better angle to see what was happening in the middle.

  The heat was horrible. Geryon’s ranch had been a winter wonderland compared to this. In no time I was drenched with sweat. My eyes stung from the smoke. I moved along, trying to keep away from the edge, until I found my way blocked by a cart on metal wheels, like the kind they sue in mine shafts. I lifted up the tarp and found it was half full of scrap metal. I was about to squeeze my way around it when I heard voices from up ahead, probably from a side tunnel.

  “Bring it in?” one asked.

  “Yeah,” another said. “Movie’s just about done.”

  I panicked. I didn’t have time to back up. There was nowhere to hide except…the cart. I scrambled inside and pulled the tarp over me, hoping no one had seen me. I curled my fingers around Riptide, just in case I had to fight.

  The cart lurched forward.

  “Oi,” a gruff voice said. “Thing weighs a ton.”

  “It’s celestial bronze,” the other said. “What did you expect?”

  I got pulled along. We turned a corner, and from the sound of the wheels echoing against the walls I guessed we had passed down a tunnel and into a smaller room. Hopefully I was not about to be dumped into a smelting pot. If they started to tip me over, I’d have to fight my way out quick. I heard lots of talking, chattering voices that didn’t sound human—somewhere between a seal’s bark and a dog’s growl. There were other sounds too—like an oldfashioned film projector and a tinny voice narrating.

  “Just set it in the back,” a new voice ordered from across the room. “Now, younglings, please attend to the film. There will be time for questions afterward.”

  The voices quieted down, and I could hear the film.

  As a young sea demon matures, the narrator said, changes happen in the monster’s body. You may notice your fangs getting longer and you may have a sudden desire to devour human beings. These changes are perfectly normal and happen to all young monsters.

  Excited snarling filled the room. The teacher—I guess it must have been a teacher—told the younglings to be quiet, and the film continued. I didn’t understand most of it, and I didn’t dare look. The film kept talking about growth spurts and acne problems caused by working in the forges, and proper flipper hygiene, and finally it was over.

  “Now, younglings,” the instructor said, “what is the proper name of our kind?”

  “Sea demons!” one of them barked.

  “No. Anyone else?”

  “Telekhines!” another monster growled.

  “Very good,” the instructor said. “And why are we here?”

  “Revenge!” several shouted.

  “Yes, yes, but why?”

  “Zeus is evil!” one monster said. “He cast us into Tartarus just because we used magic!”

  “Indeed,” the instructor said. “After we made so many of the gods’ finest weapons. The trident of Poseidon, for one. And of course—we made the greatest weapon of the Titans! Nevertheless, Zeus cast us away and relied on those fumbling Cyclopes. That is why we are taking over the forges of the usurper Hephaestus. And soon we will control the undersea furnaces, our ancestral home!”

  I clutched my pen-sword. These snarling things had created Poseidon’s trident? What were they talking about? I’d never even heard of a telekhine.

  “And so, younglings,” the instructor continued, “who do we serve?”

  “Kronos!” they shouted.

  “And when you grow to be big telekhines, will you make weapons for the army?”

  “Yes!”

  “Excellent. Now, we’ve brought in some scraps for you to practice with. Let’s see how ingenious you are.”

  There was a rush of movement and excited voices coming toward the cart. I got ready to uncap Riptide. The tarp was thrown back. I jumped up, my bronze sword springing to life in my hands, and found myself facing a bunch of…dogs.

  Well, their faces were dogs, anyway, with black snouts, brown eyes, and pointy ears. Their bodies were sleek and black like sea mammals, with stubby legs that were half flipper, half foot, and humanlike hands with sharp claws. If you blended together a kid, a Doberman pinscher, and a sea lion, you’d get something like what I was looking at.

  “A demigod!” one snarled.

  “Eat it!” yelled another.

  But that’s as far as they got before I slashed a wide arc with Riptide and vaporized the entire front row of monsters.

  “Back off!” I yelled at the rest, trying to sound fierce. Behind them stood their instructor—a six-foot-tall telekhine with Doberman fangs snarling at me. I did my best to stare him down.

  “New lesson, class,” I announced. “Most monsters will vaporize when sliced with a celestial bronze sword. This change is perfectly normal, and will happen to you right now if you don’t BACK OFF!”

  To my surprise, it worked. The monsters backed up, but there were at least twenty of them. My fear factor wasn’t going to last long. I jumped out of the cart, yelled, “CLASS DISMISSED!” and ran for the exit.

  The monsters charged after me, barking and growling. I hoped they couldn’t run very fast with those stubby little legs and flippers, but they waddled along pretty well. Thank the gods there was a door in the tunnel leading out to the main cavern. I slammed it shut and turned the wheel handle to lock it, but I doubted it would keep them long. I didn’t know what to do. Annabeth was out here somewhere, invisible. Our chance for a subtle reconnaissance mission had been blown. I ran toward the platform at the center of the lava lake.

  * * *

  “Annabeth!” I yelled.

  “Shhh!” an invisible hand clamped over my mouth and wrestled me down behind a big bronze cauldron. “You want to get us killed?”

  I found her head and took off her Yankees cap. She shimmered into existence in front of me, scowling, her face streaked with ash and grime.

  “Percy, what is your problem?”

  “We’re going to have company!” I explained quickly about the monster orientation class. Her eyes widened.

  “So that’s what they are,” she said. “Telekhines. I should’ve known. And they’re making…Well, look.”

  We peeked over the cauldron. In the center of t
he platform stood four sea demons, but these were fully grown, at least eight feet tall. Their black skin glistened in the firelight as they worked, sparks flying as they took turns hammering on a long piece of glowing hot metal.

  “The blade is almost complete,” one said. “It needs another cooling in blood to fuse the metals.”

  “Aye,” a second said. “It shall be even sharper than before.”

  “What is that?” I whispered.

  Annabeth shook her head. “They keep talking about fusing metals. I wonder—”

  “They were talking about the greatest Titan weapon,” I said. “And they…they said they made my father’s trident.”

  “The telekhines betrayed the gods,” Annabeth said. “They were practicing dark magic. I don’t know what, exactly, but Zeus banished them to Tartarus.”

  “With Kronos.”

  She nodded. “We have to get out—”

  No sooner had she said that than the door to the classroom exploded and young telekhines came pouring out. They stumbled over each other, trying to figure out which way to charge.

  “Put your cap back on,” I said. “Get out!”

  “What?” Annabeth shrieked. “No! I’m not leaving you.”

  “I’ve got a plan. I’ll distract them. You can use the metal spider—maybe it’ll lead you back to Hephaestus. You have to tell him what’s going on.”

  “But you’ll be killed!”

  “I’ll be fine. Besides, we’ve got no choice.”

  Annabeth glared at me like she was going to punch me. And then she did something that surprised me even more. She kissed me.

  “Be careful, Seaweed Brain.” She put on her hat and vanished. I probably would’ve sat there for the rest of the day, staring at the lava and trying to remember what my name was, but the sea demons jarred me back to reality.

  “There!” one yelled. The entire class of telekhines charged across the bridge toward me. I ran for the middle of the platform, surprising the four elder sea demons so much they dropped the red-hot blade. It was about six feet long and curved like a crescent moon. I’d seen a lot of terrifying things, but this unfinished whatever-it-was scared me worse.

  The elder demons got over their surprise quickly. There were four ramps leading off the platform, and before I could dash in any direction, each of them had covered an exit.

  The tallest one snarled. “What do we have here? A son of Poseidon?”

  “Yes,” another growled. “I can smell the sea in his blood.”

  I raised Riptide. My heart was pounding.

  “Strike down one of us, demigod,” the third demon said, “and the rest of us shall tear you to shreds. Your father betrayed us. He took our gift and said nothing as we were cast into the pit. We will see him sliced to pieces. He and all the other Olympians.”

  I wished I had a plan. I wished I hadn’t been lying to Annabeth. I’d wanted her to get out safely, and I hoped she’d been sensible enough to do it. But now it was dawning on me that this might be the place I would die. No prophecies for me. I would get overrun in the heart of a volcano by a pack of dog-faced sea-lion people. The young telekhines were at the platform now, too, snarling and waiting to see how their four elders would deal with me. I felt something burning against the side of my leg. The ice whistle in my pocket was getting colder. If I ever needed help, now was the time. But I hesitated. I didn’t trust Quintus’s gift.

  Before I could make up my mind, the tallest telekhine said, “Let us see how strong he is. Let us see how long it takes him to burn!”

  He scooped some lava out of the nearest furnace. It set his fingers ablaze, but this didn’t seem to bother him at all. The other elder telekhines did the same. The first one threw a glop of molten rock at me and set my pants on fire. Two more splattered across my chest. I dropped my sword in sheer terror and swatted at my clothes. Fire was engulfing me. Strangely, it felt only warm at first, but it was getting hotter by the instant.

  “Your father’s nature protects you,” one said. “Makes you hard to burn. But not impossible, youngling. Not impossible.”

  They threw more lava at me, and I remember screaming. My whole body was on fire. The pain was worse than anything I’d ever felt. I was being consumed. I crumpled to the metal floor and heard the sea demon children howling in delight.

  Then I remembered the voice of the river naiad at the ranch: The water is within me.

  I needed the sea. I felt a tugging sensation in my gut, but I had nothing around to help me. Not a faucet or a river. Not even a petrified seashell this time. And besides, the last time I’d unleashed my power at the stables, there’d been that scary moment when it had almost gotten away from me. I had no choice. I called to the sea. I reached inside myself and remembered the waves and the currents, the endless power of the ocean. And I let it loose in one horrible scream.

  Afterward, I could never describe what happened. An explosion, a tidal wave, a whirlwind of power simultaneously catching me up and blasting me downward into the lava. Fire and water collided, superheated steam, and I shot upward from the heart of the volcano in a huge explosion, just one piece of flotsam thrown free by a million pounds of pressure. The last thing I remember before losing conscious was flying, flying so high Zeus would never have forgiven me, and then beginning to fall, smoke and fire and water streaming from me. I was a comet hurtling toward the earth.

  TWELVE

  I TAKE A PERMANENT VACATION

  I woke up feeling like I was still on fire. My skin stung. My throat felt as dry as sand.

  I saw blue sky and trees above me. I heard a fountain gurgling, and smelled juniper and cedar and a bunch of other sweet-scented plants. I heard waves, too, gently lapping on a rocky shore. I wondered if I was dead, but I knew better. I’d been to the Land of the Dead, and there was no blue sky. I tried to sit up. My muscles felt like they were melting.

  “Stay still,” a girl’s voice said. “You’re too weak to rise.”

  She laid a cool cloth across my forehead. A bronze spoon hovered over me and liquid was dribbled into my mouth. The drink soothed my throat and left a warm chocolaty aftertaste. Nectar of the gods. Then the girl’s face appeared above me.

  She had almond eyes and caramel-color hair braided over one shoulder. She was…fifteen? Sixteen? It was hard to tell. She had one of those faces that just seemed timeless. She began singing, and my pain dissolved. She was working magic. I could feel her music sinking into my skin, healing and repairing my brain.

  “Who?” I croaked.

  “Shhh, brave one,” she said. “Rest and heal. No harm will come to you here. I am Calypso.”

  * * *

  The next time I woke I was in a cave, but as far as caves go, I’d been in a lot worse. The ceiling glittered with different-color crystal formations—

  white and purple and green, like I was inside one of those cut geodes you see in souvenir shops. I was lying on a comfortable bed with feather pillows and cotton sheets. The cave was divided into sections by white silk curtains. Against one wall stood a large loom and a harp. Against the other wall were shelves neatly stacked with jars of fruit preserves. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling: rosemary, thyme, and a bunch of other stuff. My mother could’ve named them all.

  There was a fireplace built into the cave wall, and a pot bubbling over the flames. It smelled great, like beef stew.

  I sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in my head. I looked at my arms, sure that they would be hideously scarred, but they seemed fine. A little pinker than usual, but not bad. I was wearing a white cotton T-shirt and cotton drawstring pants that weren’t mine. My feet were bare. In a moment of panic, I wondered what happened to Riptide, but I felt my pocket and there was my pen, right where it always reappeared.

  Not only that but the Stygian ice dog whistle was back in my pocket, too. Somehow it had followed me. And that didn’t exactly reassure me. With difficulty, I stood. The stone floor was freezing under my feet. I turned and found myself staring into a polishe
d bronze mirror.

  “Holy Poseidon,” I muttered. I looked as if I’d lost twenty pounds I couldn’t afford to lose. My hair was a rat’s nest. It was singed at the edges like Hephaestus’s beard. If I saw that face on somebody walking down a highway intersection asking for money, I would’ve locked the car doors. I turned away from the mirror. The cave entrance was to my left. I headed toward the daylight.

  The cave opened onto a green meadow. On the left was a grove of cedar trees and on the right a huge flower garden. Four fountains gurgled in the meadow, each shooting water from the pipes of stone satyrs. Straight ahead, the grass sloped down to a rocky beach. The waves of a lake lapped against the stones. I could tell it was a lake because…well, I just could. Fresh water. Not salt. The sun sparkled on the water, and the sky was pure blue. It seemed like a paradise, which immediately made me nervous. You deal with mythological stuff for a few years, you learn that paradises are usually places where you get killed.

  The girl with the braided caramel hair, the one who’d called herself Calypso, was standing at the beach, talking to someone. I couldn’t see him very well in the shimmer from the sunlight off the water, but they appeared to be arguing. I tried to remember what I knew about Calypso from the old myths. I’d heard the name before, but…I couldn’t remember. Was she a monster? Did she trap heroes and kill them? But if she was evil, why was I still alive?

  I walked toward her slowly because my legs were still stiff. When the grass changed to gravel, I looked down to keep my balance, and when I looked up again, the girl was alone. She wore a white sleeveless Greek dress with a low circular neckline trimmed in gold. She brushed at her eyes like she’d been crying.

  “Well,” she said, trying for a smile, “the sleeper finally wakes.”

  “Who were you talking to?” My voice sounded like a frog that had spent time in a microwave.