Disclaimer: I don't own PJO.

10. Lies Heroes Must Tell

Percy woke up from a fitful rest to the sound of metal sliding down rock. His eyes opened slowly despite the noise.

The first thing he saw was a fire. And sitting on a log by the popping flames, a person sharpening his blade.

Groaning, Percy tried to sit up. A flood of nausea stopped him cold. His mouth went sour, his palms grew clammy, and the area behind his eyes throbbed.

"Take it easy there," the man said. There was no rush in his tone. He sounded perfectly calm. "You took a nasty beating in that river. If I hadn't pulled you out… well, you'd be a bit further down than where we are now."

Percy coughed. "What?" he asked hoarsely.

The man got off the log, stepping over a lit lantern. He crouched by Percy. "Here, drink some of this. It'll help… with thirst and pain."

He lifted Percy's head a bit and uncapped a canteen. "Don't expect nectar. I've already given you plenty of ambrosia. Any more divine food and you'd become… a little more than crispy."

Percy drank. He wouldn't have cared even if it was poisoned. A repugnant porridge drowned his tongue in something that was too sweet, too salty, too bitter, and too spicy all at once. It tasted like a week-old fish taco left outside in the summer. The mouthful worked its way down his throat like a glacier. Slow and painful. Percy trembled and fought the turning in his stomach.

"That stuff—it's terrible," he mumbled.

"Glad to hear it," the man said. "It's supposed to be bad. Don't want people getting hurt just for a taste. Not that I'd let them have any."

Percy took the chance to examine him. The guy must have been around forty or fifty, sporting noticeable wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. His short gray hair, silvery stubble, and posture seemed to reinforce that age.

"Where are we?" asked Percy.

"A cave."

Though vague, the answer wasn't wrong. Percy saw rock walls curving upward toward a ceiling maybe thirty feet above. He could hear running water someplace far off.

Feeling better, he sat up.

"That's not a great idea," the man capped his canteen.

"I know."

"Kids these days…"

Percy was stiff. His body throbbed with every pulse of his heart. The blood pounded in his veins. Still, he wasn't in much pain. To test his flexibility, he twisted his torso from side to side.

Not bad.

Percy looked around. "So, uh, what happened exactly? Who—who are you? And what cave?"

"One at a time then," the man pointed to the left with his knife, where their cave dipped to become a rather narrow tunnel. "I was hiking these caves when I heard an explosion down that way. It was you... bursting in with the front of some piece of metal. Right through the ceiling. You got lucky. Some roots softened your fall, catching the mess of metal and tangling it up, though you still fell into the river. You must have come from above ground."

"Oh sure, I'm feeling really lucky." Percy rolled his eyes. "What happened next?"

"I pulled you out of the river and brought you over. I already had a fire going, so again, lucky you."

Percy frowned, a realization drawn. "Wait, you know about nectar and ambrosia, which means you know—"

"About the gods? About… monsters? About… half-bloods? Why yes, I do. I'm a half-blood myself. And I suppose that leads to your second question," the man dragged a rounded stone over his knife. He tapped the rock against his temple twice. "I'm Quintus."

"Quintus? Well, thanks for saving me, Quintus."

"No problem," Quintus shrugged, smiling. "As for your last question, I'm not sure what to tell you. We're in an unexplored cave system in Skamania County."

Percy scratched his head. "Huh. Okay. Is that close to Old Eden?"

"Old Eden? As in Old Eden, Arizona? By Hephaestus' yard?"

"You know it?"

Quintus nodded. "Yes. And I'm afraid that I have bad news for you."

"Of course you do," Percy sighed. "Alright, hit me with it."

"You aren't in Arizona. You're in Washington; beneath Mount St. Helens."

Percy's head snapped up. "What?"

"Washington. Beneath Mount St. Helens."

"Oh. Well, crap."

"Not what you expected?"

"No."

Quintus hummed. "How did you end up in this situation?"

"I'm—oh man, I'm supposed to be on a quest!" Percy got up. His breathing was shallow, and his body felt heavier than when he'd been sitting. "I have to get back to my friends."

"What kind of… quest?" Quintus asked, eyes growing sharper at their edges. He still sat on his haunches, only tilting his head back to show his interest. The knife waved menacingly in his loose grip, pretending to be unassuming.

Percy slowly leaned away. "We're trying to free Artemis."

"Oh? She was captured? Who did it? Another god trying to… seduce her?"

Percy looked around. "Atlas. He got free and caught Artemis. But Atlas is working under Kro—uh… " The sensation of a blade running over his spine caught that name before it rolled off his tongue. "He's working under the Titan King, who's trying to get hold of the bane of Olympus."

Quintus must have played a mean game of poker. He barely looked surprised. "I… see. So that's how it is."

"Right. We need to rescue Artemis so she can hunt the monster. She might be the only one who could do it."

"Yes, that makes sense."

"So I need to get back to them and help!"

"And your return was prophesied?" Quintus asked.

Percy stared at the man. "What?"

"In the prophecy you… must have received for such an… important quest," Quintus put his knife in a holster by his hip. He stood up and threw handfuls of sand on the fire. "Since you seem adamant, I assume your return was… hm… mentioned. You want to make sure fate is upheld."

Percy balked. "I—I mean—no that's not it."

Now, Quintus seemed surprised. "Then… what was the wording of your prophecy?"

"Why do you need to know?"

"Need to know? No. Want to know? Yes. It's in my nature, I suppose. Curiosity. No matter how old I get, it would appear I still like… solving puzzles."

Percy didn't see a big problem, so he told Quintus word for word.

"So you've been... separated from your group. Judging by what you said earlier, it was in Arizona," Quintus nodded to himself. "You were the one lost in the land without rain. That means… yes, yes… your role in the quest may well be over."

"That's a bad joke," Percy frowned.

"It's just an observation," Quintus shrugged. "After all, it never tells of you coming back to… hm… aid your friends. Maybe you were supposed to die? Or was this always how fate was meant to play out? Your arrival in Washington, I mean. Interesting."

"Oh yeah, very interesting. How did I even end up here? Washington?"

"That's easy. You came from Hephaestus' scrapyard. I happen to know of an entrance to the Labyrinth there. An old bunker. You must have gone through. Probably exited further up the mountain. It is… strange that our paths should cross. Mysterious ways indeed."

"Okay, I have questions about that, but I'm gonna ask those later." Percy looked at his watch and whistled. "Almost dawn. How am I healed?"

"I've studied medicine extensively. I was a doctor once. A long… long time ago. I studied under Asclepius for a few months… but we had a falling out and went our separate ways. Still, I would like to think my remedy is second only to the Physician's Cure." Quintus tapped his temple twice. "Plus, your injuries weren't that bad. I've dealt with much, much worse."

"Let's slow that roll," Percy held up his hands. "Asclepius is the doctor, right?"

"Yes. A god of healing and medicine, much like his father, Apollo, although I believe Asclepius took his job more seriously. Of course, he was a demigod before becoming a god. Like us. But he was... promoted."

"Okay. And the Physician's Cure is some kind of prescription or can I get it over-the-counter?"

"The Physician's Cure is Asclepius' greatest creation. He himself would... claim his daughters and the advancement of medicine to humanity contended for worthy achievements, but I... respectfully disagree." Quintus took the lantern and twisted a dial on the side, cranking up the light's intensity to compensate for their dying fire. He tapped his temple twice.

"Did you help him make it?"

"Hardly. By the time I came to be his disciple he'd already been deified and had invented the Physician's Cure. He was immortal already."

Percy nodded. "But you have your own version."

"The one I used on you. I did try to replicate Asclepius' work to the last detail, but unfortunately, he has a talent for healing that I simply don't." The glow from the lantern cast Quintus' shadow long on the rocky wall. "I was hoping to prevent death, not to reverse it. My mentor didn't think it was a 'good idea'. As if he had any right telling me that. But gods often think themselves our judges. Asclepius is no different. Lording himself as a humble braggart. Our arguments only distracted me from my research and trials."

Running his hands over where he remembered being injured, Percy said, "Well your remedy is great. I don't hurt. For only a few hours after fighting a giant robot, that's pretty good. And my hands aren't too scarred or anything."

Quintus sighed. "The remedy is good… but not perfect. You'll start feeling the effects wear off. Refrain from extremely strenuous activity, I would normally recommend."

"Hey, I'm alive and not in crippling pain; that's a win in my book," Percy shrugged. "Seriously, thanks. If there's ever anything you need, just ask."

"Ah, now that you say that, I suppose I could use your help."

Percy twisted his lips. He had been offering out of obligation, hoping Quintus wouldn't have tried to cash in. "Alright, shoot."

Quintus smiled, a wry expression carving his face. "The remedy I use is potent, as you know, and takes time to create. Above that, the ingredients are some of the rarest herbs, ichors, and… organic material the world over."

"Oh. Oh! You need me to pay so you can get more?" Percy asked. He pulled out his wallet, which was soaked. That was disappointing, though Quintus told him he'd fallen into a river. "How much—?"

The man shook his head, quickly pushing the wallet away. "I don't want your money. Keep it… buy yourself some new clothes. What I want is for you to take care of a problem. Play janitor, if you will."

Percy stowed his wallet and cocked his head, suddenly annoyed at his time being taken. Money, he had. But time wasn't something he could buy. "How so?"

"Recently, someone has been stirring up trouble in Sammamish, about a hundred miles north of here."

"Sammamish?" Percy frowned. Wasn't there something in the news about that? He remembered hearing about it. "Oh, right, the murders."

Quintus hummed. "Yes. Although, a better term might be… 'sacrifices'."

"Ominous! But what do you want me to do about it?" Percy crossed his arms.

"To stop it, of course. I would, but I'm quite invested in keeping tabs on Mount St. Helens. Good thing a capable young demigod came at just the right time."

Percy squinted. "Do you actually care about the people dying?"

"Do you?" Quintus shot back.

"I'm not the one asking someone else to solve the problem."

"And I'm not the one who offered their assistance to a complete stranger."

"I was being nice. It's what people do."

Quintus smiled. "So am I. After all, I didn't have to heal you. And certainly, I could leave the residents of Sammamish to… deal with the issue on their own. But they don't know about the world you and I inhabit. We are their… hm… best hope for stopping the deaths of their friends and family."

"So this isn't a normal problem. It's supernatural."

"Beyond the Mist, yes."

Percy flicked his wrist a few times. "And how, exactly, do you expect me to do this? I can't go door to door looking for clues. I want to get back to my friends as soon as possible."

"Do you know where your friends are at the moment?" Quintus asked.

"N—not exactly."

Quintus smirked and fished around in his pocket. He pulled out a single silver coin.

"A drachma?" Percy picked at the nail of his thumb. "Okay, I'll bite. What's that for? We going to an arcade? I'll have you know, I'm a god at Galaga. Pretty good at Ms. Pacman, too."

"Has nobody told you how to use these for Iris-messaging?"

Percy furrowed his brow. "I've heard of it. But I don't know the details."

"Well," Quintus flipped the coin with his fingers a few times, "toss this into a rainbow… and ask the goddess Iris very politely to show you a particular person or location. You'll get a direct line of communication with picture and audio. Very useful for demigods… since they can't use phones."

"Woah." Percy stared at the drachma. So that was how Grover contacted Annabeth and Thalia when he was at Westover.

"If you agree to help me, I'll hand it over. Then you can call your friends, tell them you're still alive, and plan to meet up. There... how does that sound?"

Percy clicked his tongue. The offer was good. At least he could tell his friends to hold out for him. He'd find a way back to them. "Okay, fine. Deal."

Quintus smiled. "Good! Now I… hm… never expected you to find the culprit of those sacrifices without help. As I've heard… there is a group which may help in your endeavor."

Percy mimicked the smile. "Sounds like a plan. Where do I find these guys?"

"Shouldn't be very hard. Find Amazon headquarters in Seattle and… tell them you want to help. Mention me. I use… hm… I do business with them often."

"Do you get free shipping on items for each person you recommend?"

Quintus chuckled. "Oh, they are gonna love you there."

Percy scratched his head. "So how am I getting to Seattle?"

The man nodded and gestured to the other side of the cave. "The fastest way. Through here. Shouldn't take more than thirty minutes." Quintus dimmed the lantern's light a hair. "We're entering the Labyrinth."

«Dark Cut»

Quintus walked ahead, holding the lantern high so they could see. "It should be around here somewhere," he muttered. His fingers ran along the cave's wall. When they passed over a smoother section, the pattern of a triangle shot to life with bright blue light.

The once smooth rock face shuddered. Then, as if a breeze had rolled by and swept away a cloud of dirt, part of the wall disappeared.

"So I may not know a lot of things," Percy said as he followed Quintus past the vanishing wall, "but wasn't the Labyrinth in Greece? And that was a long time ago."

"Just like many other things of our world, when the gods transf—hm… moved to the United States, so too did the Labyrinth."

They pressed forward, the sand beneath their feet turning to smooth stone. The walls morphed from crude, natural rock to red brick masonry. Percy looked back, but couldn't see where they'd entered the tunnel from. Very creepy. He stepped a bit closer to the lantern.

"Isn't the Labyrinth supposed to be a maze? To keep the Minotaur from escaping, right? How are we gonna get through it? How's it gonna take us to Seattle?"

Quintus grunted. "I know my way around the Labyrinth well enough. We'll be there faster… hm… sooner than you'd expect."

Percy nodded. While Quintus was an odd, rather mysterious guy, he seemed to be a decent enough person. Though, there were a few things Percy thought he could work on. His people skills, for example. Quintus didn't come across as relaxed. Was their conversation really so draining? Or was he just an introvert?

"I noticed… you don't… hm… have a good weapon like mine," Quintus said. He tapped his temple twice. "Not very wise as a demigod. You're just asking to die."

"Hey, I don't have anything that can transform on command like my friends. It'd be a pain to lug around a sword on my hip across the country." Percy sighed. "And it wasn't like I could've gotten one anyway. The armory at camp is locked up tight. I was in a hurry when I left."

"You're a swordsman?"

"Hardly. That's just the kind of weapon I was given to start. Never bothered trying anything else. Though maybe…" Percy recalled the times on his quest where a sword might have been useful. The thought of his friends out there made him pause. He hoped they were safe.

"With that attitude, I'm surprised you're still alive. Hm, you must be a child of the Big Three. I know they broke their oath."

Percy, subdued by his distractions, barely heard the question. He replied, "Persephone. My mother."

Quintus slowed. He glanced back. "Really? Interesting… interesting… so the roots that caught you... I see. Well, regardless, you have the arrogance of a spawn of the Big Three."

"That so?"

"No response to the 'arrogance' part?"

"I'm not too worried about it. Sticks and stones may break my bones."

"But nectar and ambrosia can always heal me," Quintus finished.

Percy stared at the swinging lantern. "I like that. Mind if I borrow it for the future? Get some cheap laughs."

"Please give credit where it's due."

Their forced conversation died when Quintus stopped walking. He fumbled with the dial, twisting until it clicked off. The light left.

Percy was left full submerged in inky darkness. His head spun from the sudden change. His body was seized by dread. It was like a punch to the gut, and he wanted to start running.

Just as he opened his mouth to ask Quintus what was happening, a noise from further down the tunnel reached him. Voices, Percy realized.

"Up ahead is a junction," whispered Quintus. "To reach Seattle, we have to take the path furthest to the left."

Percy strained his ears. "Are those monsters?"

"Yes. From the sibilant pronunciation I hear… hm… I'm assuming dracaenae."

"What?"

"Serpent women. Their lower body's like a snake's, and the upper resembles a… human."

Right, like those monsters that had been with the General, Percy recalled. "Gotcha. How're we gonna do this?"

"Can you fight?"

Percy pursed his lips. During his time spent walking with Quintus, he hadn't felt plants in or around the tunnel. There weren't roots beneath him. And even though there was earth untainted by death, it wasn't soil. It was cold rock. He couldn't grow anything from solid rock. It didn't have any concept of giving life. His daughter wouldn't be coming to save him if he got into trouble.

Still, he was a demigod, and demigods were innate warriors. That's what Chiron told him on the tour.

"Yeah, I can fight." He coughed quietly. "Not in the dark, though."

Quintus backed them up some paces. He grabbed Percy's hand and put something in his palm. "My dagger. Celestial bronze KM2000. You know the Germans always make good stuff. Though, I improved on the… metalwork for this one."

Two taps on his temple later, and Quintus rolled his head from side to side.

"Uh, thanks. But what about you?"

"They'll probably have something I can take."

"Veto. That's a terrible plan."

"You have no veto power down here. I can handle myself. I need you alive. After all... I'm not the one going to Sammamish."

Percy felt the hard plastic sheath. His fingers reached the dagger's pommel, trailed up to the ergonomic handle, and pulled the knife loose.

He hadn't noticed before, but the blade was indeed made of celestial bronze, and cast a dim glow. It was maybe eleven inches long, the blade making up half that length.

Only one part of the knife was sharpened, and near the pommel on that side was a serrated section. The other side was thicker. Eventually, the blade tapered from the cutting edge up to meet the spine, leaving an intimidating tip at the end.

Percy slid the knife back into its sheath and fumbled to clip it to the waist of his jeans. "Why don't we just wait for them to pass by?"

"Too late," Quintus whispered. "On my mark."

Percy wanted to ask what kind of mark. But he kept his mouth shut and gripped the knife's handle.

"I know I tasted something down this way," a voice hissed. "And I saw a light!"

"We're wasting our time," someone else hissed.

"No! Can't you taste the air? Rotting meat! Tasty, tasty rotting meat," the first voice sang giddily. "Maybe a demigod died down here? You don't know with the Labyrinth."

The sound of scratching and scraping along the paved floor drew closer. Percy could make out the shape of a pair of glowing tridents. The green, scaly faces of two dracanae came into view. Their celestial bronze weapons didn't cast enough light to reach where Quintus and Percy crouched, but the dracanae were getting closer.

Once they were some twenty feet away, Quintus bolted forward. Percy took that as his signal and followed a few steps behind.

The dracaenae hissed in surprised and focused on Quintus since he was up front, trying to sweep him off his feet with their tridents. Despite his age, the man moved like a well-oiled machine. He hopped over one trident when it swept low and spun past the other when it reached for his chest.

Percy drew the knife, alerting the monster closest to him. She tried to rear back. The twin snake trunks didn't make that easy. When she nearly fell, the dracaena swung her trident down like a baseball bat. Percy dodged and jammed the knife under her chin.

He grabbed the trident before it fell from the monster's dissolving hands.

Turning, he saw Quintus already standing over a pile of glowing dust. Percy whistled. Color him impressed; Quintus was a badass.

"There's more up ahead," the man said. "Let's go introduce ourselves."

«White Cut»

Percy kicked the shaft of a spear away. He drove the knife into his opponent's throat, drawing a line across her neck. Black blood coated his hand as the monster dropped.

Letting go of a breath, he looked around the circular junction. Five archways signaled five different directions to go. Good thing he had a guide.

They made a good team. At least, Percy would have liked to say that. And looking at the aftermath, anybody might have agreed. There were small mounds of dust scattered every few feet, the remains of all the monsters that had fallen to their combined attack.

But really, Quintus was the one who'd killed most of the dracaenae. Once he'd gotten his hands on a sword, he became a cyclone of movement. His feints and parries were perfect. His ripostes were fatal. It was actually a bit scary, even in short glimpses.

On the other hand, Percy managed to kill two out of the twelve monsters that were gathered. Respectable, in his mind, if still lacking to pull his own weight. Especially since Quintus had been their main focus for most of the skirmish. Percy had taken two by surprise, which gave him two easy kills. But now he understood what Quintus said before. The remedy's effects were coming to an end, and Percy felt his whole body ache. A lot of it was in his lower back, though his hands stung fiercely too.

"Down that hall, you'll find a door that leads to Seattle. If I remember… the basement of an REI store." Quintus wasn't even breathing hard. His voice almost sounded unnatural. He didn't have a scratch on him.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "What's REI?"

"Outdoor supply store. It's where I got these pants, actually. Good stuff, you should check them out while your there." The man motioned to his pair of olive green cargo pants. "Oh, and the shoes." He shook his hiking boots.

Percy looked down at his own clothing. His jacket and shirt were ripped and dirty. His pants still had the long tears from where the Nemean Lion scratched. His shoes had holes, probably because of all that scrap metal he'd been running over. Only his watch was in excellent condition.

He glanced at the tunnel to Seattle, shivering at the warm monster blood dripping from his fingers. "So, uh, how is Amazon supposed to help me?"

Quintus chuckled. He tapped his temple twice. "You'll find out. I don't want to ruin the surprise."

Percy took a step back, wiping the blood on a wall. "Right. Anyway, you promised me that drachma."

"Here. Go wild. Should warn you, Iris has some pretty spotty connection in the Labyrinth. Messaging is typically hit or miss, though mostly it's miss."

The coin flipped through the air, landing in Percy's waiting palm. He put it away and held out the knife.

Quintus took one look. He shrugged. "Keep it. I have plenty more where that came from. Better ones, too."

"Are you sure?" Percy bobbed the dagger back and forth.

"I am sure. I'd feel guilty otherwise."

Percy put the sheath and holster back on his waist. "Alright then. Thanks. I guess this is where we part ways."

Quintus nodded. "It is. I still have a few things to take care of around Mount St. Helens, and this part of the Labyrinth typically stays in the area. Unfortunately, the spirits of the Underworld have been agitated ever since those murders started. And there is one spirit in particular who would very much like to put me in the Fields of Punishment for eternity."

"Jeez, what'd you do, kill him?" Percy tried to chuckle through his nose. His small smile slowly fell off when an unsettling silence settled on them. The lantern was on again, its steady yellow light painting the stone an ugly color. Soft shadows turned solid.

"He… brought his… hm… fate upon himself," Quintus finally said. He tapped his temple twice. "Sometimes it's better to give up than see something through to the end. He should've known better. I didn't kill him. No. He did want me dead, though. It just so happened he died first. Very unfortunate."

Percy swallowed his tongue. The man's words were still collected, but there was definitely a dangerous edge in his voice. Whatever happened between Quintus and that ghost must have been pretty awful, no doubt better left alone.

"Right. So, I'll just, like, get going. Amazon. Ask for help. Cool."

"Good idea," Quintus nodded. His face had grown heavy. In the lantern's light, each line looked to be a trench carved by time. He turned and walked to the archway furthest from the path to Seattle, taking the strong light with him. "I hope I don't regret saving your life. And send my regards when you finally get rid of that pest."

Frowning, Percy watched Quintus leave the junction. Eventually, the lantern's shine was lost in the stretched road he'd taken. Gulping at the darkness, Percy quickly drew his dagger and held it in front of him. With his destination in mind, he pressed on alone, more than ready for breakfast and a warm bath.

A/N: Congratulations, I played myself. This chapter is not the one I'd originally planned to write. Not only shorter, but also in terms of substance. Quite different. Anyway! Quintus; the man, the myth, the legend. Or rather, proto-Quintus with a speech impediment. He's a neat dude with lingering resentment. "But then again, who isn't?" I ask as I remember that one time in elementary school. That aside, thanks for reading.

Review Response-

Guest 1: Sounds about right.

Guest 2: Thanks.

Guest 3: Oof. I played myself again. The wound may never heal. But you're my favorite customer.

Malosi06: Apparently that interaction was the highlight. Good thing I did it justice. Thanks for the feedback.

Guest: I'll do my best.