Chapter 1

A Quest's Beginning

(A/N: Finally I get the first chapter up! I'll be honest with ya: I completely forgot it was completed, and it was just sitting in my documents folder. Hope you enjoy, though!)

For Percy, waiting for Annabeth to return from the Big House attic was harder than visiting the Oracle himself. She'd discovered an entrance to Daedalus's Labyrinth, one that Luke could use to get into the camp. She had to lead a quest to find the inventor's workshop. But to do that, first she had to speak to the Oracle.

Percy had heard it speak prophecies twice before. The first time had been in the dusty attic of the Big House, where the spirit of Delphi slept inside the body of a mummified old lady. The second time, the Oracle had come out for a stroll in the woods. He still had nightmares about that.

He'd never felt threatened by the Oracle's presence, but had heard stories: campers who'd gone insane, or who'd seen visions so real they died of fear.

Percy paced the arena, waiting. The hellhound 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. Absently, he wondered where Quintus got dog biscuits that size.

Chiron was deep in conversation with Quintus and Argus. It looked to Percy like they were disagreeing about something. Quintus kept shaking his head.

On the other side of the arena, Tyson and the Stoll brothers raced miniature bronze chariots that Tyson had made out of armor scraps. Percy gave up on pacing and left the arena. He stared across the fields at the Big House's attic window, dark and still. What was taking Annabeth so long? He was pretty sure it hadn't taken him this long to get his quest.

"Percy," a girl whispered suddenly. Juniper was standing in the bushes. It was weird how she almost turned invisible when she was surrounded by plants. She gestured him over urgently. "You need to know: Luke wasn't the only one I saw around that cave."

"What do you mean?"

She glanced back at the arena. "I was trying to say something, but he was right there."

"Who?"

"The sword master," she said. "He was poking around the rocks."

His stomach clenched. "Quintus? 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?"

"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?"

Juniper sighed. "I'd better go in. Just remember what I said. Don't trust that man!" She ran into the arena.

Percy stared at the Big House, feeling more uneasy than ever. If Quintus was up to something… Percy needed Annabeth's advice. She might know what to make of Juniper's news. But where was she? Whatever was happening with the Oracle, it shouldn't have been taking that long.

Finally, he couldn't stand it anymore. It was against the rules, but then again, nobody was watching. Percy ran down the hill and headed across the fields.

The front parlor of the Big House was strangely quiet. Percy was used to seeing Dionysus by the fireplace, playing cards and eating grapes and griping at satyrs, but Mr. D was still away.

He walked down the hallway, floorboards creaking under his feet. When he 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. Percy stood quietly and listened. But what he heard wasn't what he had expected.

Sobbing. And it was coming from below him.

Percy crept around the back of the stairs. The basement door was open. He didn't even know the Big House had a basement. He peered inside and saw 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 teenaged Hispanic kid 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."

"My name's not Mary." Clarisse's voice was gentle, but really sad. Percy never knew Clarisse could sound that way. "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 backed away, hoping Clarisse hadn't seen him. He listened for her to come charging out and yell at him, but 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 he get the feeling Chris hadn't been talking about him at all?

And Clarisse's tenderness—it had never even occurred to Percy that she might like someone; but the way she said Chris's name… She'd known him before he changed sides, and a lot better than Percy realized. 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?

Percy heard a creak from above—like the attic door opening—and ran for the front door. He needed to get out of that house.

"My dear," Chiron said. "You made it."

Annabeth looked at Percy first. He couldn't tell if she was trying to warn him, or if the look in her eyes was just plain fear. Then she focused on Quintus.

"I got the prophecy. I will lead the quest to find Daedalus's workshop." No one cheered. Of course, they all liked Annabeth and wanted her to have a quest, but that one seemed insanely dangerous. After what Percy had seen of Chris Rodriguez, he didn't even want to think about Annabeth descending into that weird maze again.

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. Percy thought about the Iris-message he'd seen of Nico summoning spirits. He had a bad feeling the prophecy was connected to that.

"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 Percy. "Will you come?"

He didn't even hesitate. "I'm in."

She smiled for the first time in days, and that made it all worthwhile.

"Grover, you too? The wild god is waiting."

Grover 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 said. "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 said. "This goes against the ancient laws. A hero is allowed only two companions."

"I need them all," she insisted. "Chiron, it's important."

Percy didn't know why she was so certain, but he was happy she'd included Tyson. He couldn't imagine leaving his brother behind. He was huge and strong and great at figuring out mechanical things. Unlike satyrs, Cyclopes had no problem underground.

"Annabeth." Chiron flicked his tail nervously. "Consider well. You would be breaking the ancient laws, and there are always consequences. Last winter, six went on a quest to save Artemis. Only three non-mortals 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. Four… this is risky."

Annabeth took a deep breath. "Five, actually," she replied. "We need the same man that helped save Artemis. We need the Doctor."

Percy was initially surprised at her response, but the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Like Daedalus, the Doctor was very old and smart, and probably had knowledge of the Labyrinth. And… Percy knew she missed him. The Time Lord had been like a second father to her all those years ago. No wonder she wanted to ask him for help— she wanted to see him. He'd promised to come visit if she asked him, but strangely enough, she hadn't reached out. Maybe she was waiting for a good enough reason.

"I have a number to call," she went on. "He told me to reach out to him if I needed help. And I do. I know the rule about phones, but this is important."

Percy 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."

The Doctor was busy tinkering beneath the TARDIS console when the phone rang. He jumped, startled, then exclaimed in pain as he hit his head on the console. "Ow."
He called out, "Ponds, would one of you please get that? I'm a bit busy right now."

"Okay!" Amy shouted in answer. The Doctor heard her footsteps as she moved to answer the phone, half-listening as she picked it up. The other half of his mind was focused on setting loose wires back in place.

"Hello?" A pause. Fusing a tiny copper wire.

Then a reply. "He's occupied at the moment. Who is this?"

Another pause, more wires being put back into place. "Well, I can tell 'im you're on, but I don't know if he'll be able to talk." Then she cleared her throat. "Raggedy Man!"

He slid out from under the console. Whoever Amy had been talking to probably needed to speak to him. Sitting up, he replied, "Yeah, what?"

"There's a miss Annabeth who says she needs to talk to you. Annabeth… Chase, I think. It sounded important."

He shot bolt upright at that, jumping to his feet. If Annabeth thought talking to him was important, then it was definitely important. Was she in danger? He walked over, held out his hand. "Give it here."

Amy raised an eyebrow, but didn't argue as she handed over the receiver. "Alright." He raised it to his ear.

"Annabeth? What is it? Are you alright?"

"I'm okay. It's just…" There was a pause in which she drew a shuddering breath, like she was close to tears. "I need your help. I'm going on a quest, somewhere very dangerous. Normally, I wouldn't ask you, but…" Another pause. She cleared her throat. "It's the Labyrinth. Daedalus's Labyrinth. I need you for this."

He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, of course. Just… let me talk to my friends first and see what I can do. Give me your coordinates so I know where to find you." She gave him a date, time, and a location. He nodded. "Alright. I'll see you then. Bye." He hung up the phone, then turned to face a worried-looking Amy and Rory, the latter of whom had walked into the console room not long after Amy first picked up the phone.

"We have a bit of a situation, Ponds. I—"

Amy stopped him midsentence. "Who is Annabeth Chase? And… how old is she? She sounded really young on the phone."

He sighed. "Well, if my estimation is correct, she'd be fifteen now." Amy gave him a shocked look as he continued. "I met her when she was seven years old. Saw her again after she turned fourteen. I told her to call me if she ever needed help again. And… now she does."

Amy nodded. "Well, let's go, then! If she needs help, she needs help."

He sighed again, looked down at his shoes. "Here's the thing, Pond. I don't know if you two going with me would be such a good idea." Amy opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a raised hand.

"It would be dangerous. Very dangerous. As in, 'it-is-a-very-real-possibility-we-might-die' dangerous. And even if we survived, you two would be in for quite a shock. Your whole world would be turned on its ear."

Amy scoffed. "I met an alien when I was seven, just like Annabeth. You can't shock me. Besides, I'd rather die helping this friend of yours than live on not knowing what happened to you!"

Rory nodded in agreement. "Yeah. Like it or not, we're sticking with you, mate."

The Doctor let out a long, frustrated exhale. "Fine, fine, fine! You won't have long to change your minds, by the way. I warned you." He cleared his throat, stepped over to the console. "New York, here we come."

As the council broke up, Quintus pulled Percy aside.

"I have a bad feeling about this," the swordsman said.

Mrs. O'Leary came over, wagging her tail happily. She dropped her shield at Percy's feet, and he threw it for her. Quintus watched her romp after it. Percy remembered what Juniper had said about him scouting out the maze. He didn't trust Quintus, but when Percy looked at him, he saw real concern in the man's eyes.

"I don't like the idea of you going down there," he said. "Any of you. But if you must, I want you to remember something. The Labyrinth exists to fool you. It will distract you. That's dangerous for half-bloods. We are easily distracted."

"You've been in there?"

"Long ago." His voice was ragged. "I barely escaped with my life. Most who enter aren't that lucky."

He gripped Percy's shoulder. "Percy, keep your mind on what matters most. If you can do that, you might find the way. And here, I wanted to give you something."

He handed Percy a little silver tube. It was so cold he almost dropped it. "A whistle?" he asked.

"A dog whistle," Quintus said. "For Mrs. O'Leary."

"Um, thanks, but—"

"How will it work in the maze? I'm not a hundred percent certain it will. But Mrs. O'Leary is a hellhound. She can appear when called, no matter how far away she is. I'd feel better knowing you had this. If you really need help, use it; but be careful, the whistle is made of Stygian ice."

"What ice?"

"From the River Styx. Very hard to craft. Very delicate. It cannot melt, but it will shatter when you blow it, so you can only use it once."

Percy thought about Luke, his old enemy. Right before Percy had gone on his first quest, Luke had given him a gift, too—magic shoes that had been designed to drag him to his death. Quintus seemed nice. So concerned. And Mrs. O'Leary liked him, which had to count for something. She dropped the slimy shield at Percy's feet and barked excitedly. He felt ashamed that he could even think about mistrusting Quintus. But then again, he'd trusted Luke once.

"Thanks," Percy told Quintus. He slipped the freezing whistle into his pocket, promising himself that he would never use it, and dashed off to find Annabeth.

As long as Percy had been at camp, he'd never been inside the Athena cabin. It was a silvery building with plain white curtains and a carved stone owl over the doorway. The owl's onyx eyes seemed to follow him as he walked closer.

"Hello?" he called inside. No one answered.

Percy stepped in and caught his breath. The place was a workshop for brainiac kids. The bunks were all pushed against one wall as if sleeping didn't matter very much. Most of the room was filled with workbenches and tables and sets of tools and weapons. The back of the room was a huge library crammed with old scrolls and 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. "Knock, knock?" Percy said softly.

She turned with a start. "Oh…hi. Didn't hear you."

"You okay?"

She 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."

Percy thought about what Quintus had said, how the maze tries to distract people. He wondered if Annabeth knew that already.

"We'll figure it out," he promised. 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.

"You're going to do awesome." She looked at Percy gratefully, but then stared down at all the books and scrolls she'd pulled from the shelves. "I'm worried, Percy. Maybe I shouldn't have asked you to do this. Or Tyson or Grover. And what about the Doctor?"

"Hey, we're your friends. We wouldn't miss it. And… the Doctor cares about you. I'm sure he'll help you. He risked his life for you once."

"But…" She stopped herself.

"What is it?" he asked. "The prophecy?"

"I'm sure it's fine," she said in a small voice.

"What was the last line?"

Then she did something that really surprised Percy. She blinked back tears and put out her arms.

Percy stepped forward and hugged Annabeth. Butterflies started turning his stomach into a mosh pit.

"Hey, it's…it's okay." He patted her back.

Percy was aware of everything in the room. It felt like he could read the tiniest print on any book on the shelves. Annabeth's hair smelled like lemon soap. She was shivering.

"Chiron might be right," she muttered. "I'm breaking the rules. But I don't know what else to do. I need you four. It just feels right."

"Then don't worry about it," he managed. "We've had plenty of problems before, and we solved them."

"This is different. I don't want anything happening to…any of you."

Behind Percy, someone cleared his throat. It was one of Annabeth's half-brothers, Malcolm. His face was bright red. "Um, sorry," he said. "Archery practice is starting, Annabeth. Chiron said to come find you."

Percy stepped away from Annabeth. "We were just looking at maps," he said stupidly. Malcolm stared at him. "Okay."

"Tell Chiron I'll be right there," Annabeth said, and Malcom left in a hurry.

Annabeth rubbed her eyes. "You go ahead, Percy. I'd better get ready for archery." He nodded, feeling more confused than he ever had in his life. He wanted to run from the cabin… but then again, he didn't.

"Annabeth?" he said. "About your prophecy. The line about a hero's last breath—"

"You're wondering which hero? I don't know."

"No. Something else. I was thinking the last line usually rhymes with the one before it. Was it something about—did it end in the word death?"

Annabeth stared down at her scrolls. "You'd better go, Percy. Get ready for the quest. I'll—I'll see you in the morning."

Percy left her there, staring at maps that led from nowhere to nowhere; but he couldn't shake the feeling that one of them wasn't going to come back from the quest alive.