CHAPTER XV

REYNA

They were finally there.

So many days of walking, and they had finally made their way to the destination. For lack of a better name, they had agreed to call the place 'Juno's cave'. It stood directly above them, a climb at an incline of about sixty degrees which they would climb first thing tomorrow morning.

She compared the landscape of the previous few days with the one in front of them. They had been constantly walking through a hilly territory, but the slopes had always been gentle, almost unnoticeable, marked only because of the curving paths. Now it was as if some crazy god had decided that the mountains ended here, and cut up the mountainside to give a sheer drop. The green forests had swallowed them up as soon as they left the town.

The place they were standing was relatively clear, tufts of wild grass reaching up to their knees, a couple of at the edge of the tiny clearing. A small cluster of boulders stood at the very edge of the cliff with a gap between them, barely enough for one person to sit with their legs outstretched. Al immediately made her way there, dropping the violin case and her jacket onto the grass before lying down on the jacket. She had barely said a word since they had left the town behind.

Reyna continued walking "I'll scout around for monsters. Try and see if you can spot any. Raise an alarm."

She came back to find Al sitting leaning against the rocks at the edge of the cliff, barely a meter between her and the drop. She had the violin placed across her lap, with the bow on top of it. Her head was resting on her palms against the rock and her eyes were closed.

Reyna lowered herself to sit on the ground in front of the opposite boulder. "All clear."

Al opened her eyes. "You killed your father."

The suddenness of it took her by surprise. A chill went up her spine. How did she know?

Reyna tried to keep her expression neutral. She had nothing to prove to Al.

Al's expression was difficult to decipher. There was no judgement in it, more like… curiosity. Al was curious. Her voice was soft. "It was an accident, wasn't it? Why?"

She finally got her voice back. "That's none of your business."

Al picked up the bow of the violin. "I know that. But I'd be happier to follow you if I were sure that I won't end up with a sword in me."

Reyna snapped. This was precisely why she never wanted to share this with others. They always assumed the worst. Granted, Al figured it out on her own, but that didn't change anything. "You talk to me about hiding things? You talk to me about being a traitor? Who the hell are you? You are a chameleon, you change like the weather, nothing you show is true. And you talk to me about trust?"

Al tilted her head to the side slightly. "That annoys you, doesn't it? But I'm not the one who killed her father."

"I have nothing to prove to you." Reyna stood her ground. Or sat. she wasn't going to run away just because Al guessed something she shouldn't have.

Al was silent. Wind blew through the gap in the rocks, making a slight whistling noise. The evening was rapidly darkening, shadows lengthening from the trees.

"My father was a con artist."

Reyna blinked. "What?"

Al's eyes had closed again, one hand resting on her knee. "You said I changed like a chameleon. Since I don't appreciate being compared to a reptile, I'm giving you an explanation."

"Oh."

Al grinned, but it wasn't like her previous smiles. There was something almost bitter in it. "Dear ol' dad simply couldn't have a normal job. He was a con artist, a cat burglar, a fake psychic, a confidence trickster and a hypnosis master, among a thousand other things." Her jaw clenched. "He was always what the person in front of him wanted him to be, because people get fooled easier, sorry deal better that way. After he died, I tried my best not to turn out like him, but" She laughed bitterly. "Guess I'm more like him than I thought."

She looked up at Reyna. Her brown eyes glinted with dark humor. "Believe it or not, my little sister never even got named properly. Dad changed his name and ours as fast as his clothes. He was Joseph Jones, Aaron Kane, Brady Shaw, Arnold James all in one year. The longest time, two years, for which he had one name was when I was six. He called himself Ronald Alexander Haden, and he was a fake psychic. He would always be there for the next heist, the next big con, and after that we'd be out of the state or the country depending upon how many people he had pissed off. I spent most of my life in travelling carnivals and circuses. His real name was Paulo DaCosta, but he never used it. It's one of the reasons I don't use that surname anymore. It didn't mean anything to him, and it doesn't mean anything to me."

Reyna leaned forward. Al had never volunteered any personal information on her own. The sad thing was that such reticence wasn't even unusual among demigods. Over the years, she had seen some very extreme reactions of demigods on references to their pasts.

Not that she had any right to judge.

Al listlessly plucked a chord of the violin. "The worst part was that he was a great dad. He really cared about me. After mom died, he just wasn't the same. I used to think he was the best thing in the world since ice-cream. It was just… the way he saw the world, as a race, as a survival game, that you're a con or a mark; that was what made me want to run away all the time. And that's the reason I changed along the trip, because I morphed into the kind of person you thought I was, and the funny thing is that I never even had to try. It was as easy and as unconscious as breathing. An instinct, almost. It's inbuilt into me. But you" her eyes had returned back to their X-ray like quality. "you don't give a damn about what you want, do you? You want the truth, no matter what. That's rare. One in a hundred people actually want what is real rather than what they want. People see what they want to see, always."

The silence was as thick as the clouds hanging low over their heads. "Why didn't you, then?"

Al looked up. "Why didn't I what?"

Reyna frowned. "You said you wanted to run away. Why didn't you?"

Al looked away towards the cliff. "Because of my sister. I couldn't take her with me, and I couldn't leave her."

"Oh." That was all she could bring herself to say. It was creepily close to what Hylla had told her years ago one of the many times they had fought.

"If it hadn't been for me, you would still have been stuck with dad and his stupid paranoid ghosts!" she had yelled at Hylla. "Stop treating me like a child!"

"If it hadn't been for you I would have run away years ago!" Hylla roared back. "You don't know what half of it was like!"

Al looked at her. "He hurt Hylla, didn't he? And you panicked."

Reyna clenched her fists. "Okay, now this is too much. How are you figuring it all out?"

"I speak Spanish." Al suddenly seemed to be interested in her shoes. "I heard what you said, I saw the way you were standing, I saw how you looked to the right and panicked. I saw the horror on your face."

It was her turn to feel bitter now. "I guess that was easy, then."

Al chuckled. "A lot of things are easy when you know the logic behind them. The most unnoticeable things are more often than not the most obvious ones."

"If you knew already, then why ask?"

Al seemed uncertain. "Maybe because I want to trust you. Like it or not, you are still my ticket out of this place."

Reyna laughed dryly. "Yeah, a ticket. I'm so glad you have such a high opinion of me."

Al studied her face. "You spent some time at sea, you fought with Hylla and separated ways; her to the Amazons and you to Camp Jupiter; you returned home last year, that's why you didn't want to talk about San Juan. It makes perfect sense."

Reyna rolled her eyes. "We ran away from San Juan to the States, Puerto Rico is an island, we were at sea for some time. Not that big a feat."

A spark of interest crept into Al's face. "That's not what I meant. I'm terrible at geography. You spent some time as sailors or whatever. You voice rasps when you get angry, like a sailor's. You weren't guests on a yacht, I'd say."

Reyna suddenly felt unnerved. She could handle a physical fight, or do fairly well at a mental test but how do you stop an assault like Al's, studying every move and drawing a thousand conclusions? Even if she told Al to shut up, it wouldn't stop her from seeing everything anyway. "What else did you learn from your dad?"

Al pressed the tips of her fingers together, supporting her chin on them. "Uh… a lot of things, really. Pickpocketing, lock-picking, fraud, acting, voice modulation, hypnosis, shooting guns, how to keep a straight face while saying the most ridiculous things, hotwiring cars and bikes…"

"Wait." Reyna stopped her. "You can hypnotize people?"

Al grinned. "Yeah. Don't be alarmed, Praetor, I wouldn't dream of doing that to you. Not when you have a nice gold spear with you."

"That's not what I was thinking. I just thought hypnosis wasn't possible. It was, like a myth."

Al gave her an are-you-kidding-me look. "Excuse me but you talk about gods and monsters and stuff and you think what I'm saying isn't real? Hypnosis is real, you just have to be very good."

Reyna smirked. "And you think you're very good, don't you?"

Al's eyes gleamed. "I've been helping my dad in the showbiz since I was five, Praetor. Twelve years. I think I'm moderately good. You haven't seen me at my dad's side, channeling my inner charlatan."

Reyna couldn't help the chuckle leaving her. "Seriously?" The idea of this geek being a part of a show seemed ridiculous.

Al's intense gaze bored into her eyes. "Praetor, you have no idea what is possible. Think of it, the human brain is a wonderful thing. It is so difficult to know what exactly goes on in there." Her voice was soft and slow, low in timbre, slightly monotonous, unlike her eyes, which were piercing. "Never dismiss what comes to mind, Praetor. Nothing, no matter how irrelevant, it may be. You never know when you might need it. Trust me, you can just relax, take a deep breath, and-" she suddenly stopped and snapped her fingers in front of her face.

It felt like when you were just about to fall sleep and someone shook you awake. Reyna jerked back like she had been slapped. "What the hell was that?"

Al grinned. "You challenged me, Praetor. I accepted."

"Did you just try to hypnotize me?"

Al looked affronted. "When you say try, I assume you mean awesomely succeeded within thirty seconds, and didn't pry secrets because I am a nice and upfront person."

A sudden thought struck her. "You called me Reyna earlier. Why did you go back to calling me Praetor?"

Al smiled as though at a private joke. "Because I call things as I see them. You were acting like Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano. Now you're acting like the Praetor of the Twelfth Legion."

Reyna raised an eyebrow. "They are supposed to be different?"

Al grinned. "Of course. As different as day and night."

Reyna crossed her arms. "Why would I tell you anything? I don't know what you are like. You keep making cryptic statements but you never say things that are actually useful."

Al looked offended. "Are you calling all that I say useless, Praetor? I think you just don't like me because I can read you but you can't read me."

Reyna rolled her eyes. Al grinned. "Annoying you is a plus."

Al was right.

As much as she hated to admit it, Al had been right about there being a difference between being the Praetor and being herself. Away from the Camp, she felt more relaxed than she had in months, even years. With time, she had built a reputation for herself, which she now had to maintain in front of the Legion. Here, she had no one looking at her constantly, and she could feel herself unwinding.

Al was sitting on the opposite end of the small fire they had managed to light. They generally avoided it, because they didn't really need to send a flare for monsters to find them. Lighting the fire had been a headache. Al had all sorts of things in her pockets: lighters, twine, wires, random circuitry, scraps of paper, cellotape, a pen, transistors, a pencil, tiny resistors, some money in a wallet, an eraser, a handful of toffees, coins, crumpled notes, a deck of cards (seriously? Cards?), a makeshift compass, a railway ticket stub, a lump of clay and gods know what else. Finding the lighter had taken simply ages.

Al grinned. "Well, thank you."

Reyna frowned. "What?"

"You were thinking that I'm right. And reflecting on the regrettable state of the various objects in my pockets. I thanked you for finally admitting that I'm right. Not sure which instance of my rightness you are referring to."

"Can you stop doing that? It's unnerving."

Al seemed to consider it. "No."

Reyna scowled at her.

"Not at camp, not the Praetor." Al reminded her. "Come on, Reyna. I can't sleep, and by the looks of it neither can you. Tell me about you. I'm really curious. And hey," she shrugged. "No load's ever gotten heavier by sharing, has it?"

"What makes you think it's a burden?"

Al frowned. "I don't know. I just… know, I guess."

Reyna shook her head. "I'm thinking you're a daughter, or at least a legacy of Mercury." A wave of defiance went through her. She didn't need the help of someone who barely knew her, someone who was a rookie in the demigod world. "I don't need your help."

Al chuckled and looked over to the cliffside. "You know, I loved my dad." she fell silent after that. Reyna wondered where this was going.

"I was always in awe of him. I thought he could wave his hand and make everything perfect. So much so that I literally begged him to teach me everything he knew. He was reluctant, but he did. And then," a flash of regret passed through her face. "when I was seven, I became a part of my first real con. An old man whose granddaughter was dying of TB, and my dad did his 'I am a psychic' routine and pretended to heal her. I was kind of there to prove that his mumbo-jumbo worked, but the whole thing was a fake burn and colored wax. We left the place soon after that, and I didn't think about it; not until I saw the old man again a couple of years later." She laughed bitterly. "The kid didn't make it. How could she have? And you know," regret shone through her face. "I'll never forget his face as he railed against my dad, shouting about his granddaughter's death. He said that he'd never hurt another man in his life, but he'd kill my dad if he saw him again. The police had to drag the old man off my dad. For the first time, I felt ashamed to call that man my father. And for the first time, I felt horrified and ashamed of what I had done, what I had been a part of. After that, I tried to get away from that life as much as possible. I studied Science, computers, kept trying to push away everything I knew as much as I could. And yet…" her voice trailed off. "And yet I can't count the number of times I've managed to get out of sticky situations by using what my dad taught me."

"What I'm trying to say is," she turned to Reyna. "Families can be difficult. That doesn't mean they have to define you. You've made a name for yourself. Your father… I don't know what your deal with him was, but, well, you're beyond him now. Maybe it's time you stepped out of his shadow."

Reyna hesitated. Maybe it's time you came out of the shadows. Something Jason had told Nico, which he said he had wished later he could do because he had started to become afraid of the darkness, because he might dissolve into it permanently.

And yet… how well did she know Al? The had barely known each other for a week. And yet Al was a close friend; not as close as Nico or Coach Hedge, but still a close friend. She'd seen what she had done and yet was asking for an explanation instead of making accusations like someone else might have. If she herself had to go on a quest with someone guilty of patricide, she would have liked to know the full story too.

What was it that Al had said? You wanted to be fair, but your need to hide your real thoughts was more than your need to be fair.

Al was still looking at her, waiting for a response. Reyna steeled herself, and began talking.

The funny thing was, it wasn't even that difficult. After telling her the San Juan part, the rest of it was pretty easy. She left out Venus's curse. She wasn't that insane. Al laughed at the part where she described the C.C. Resort and Spa, how Hylla managed to scare Blackbeard into letting them go, how Coach Hedge had earned money in Portugal with his martial arts, the farturas, the Hunters' note after kidnapping her. Somehow she thought that being named Thalia was funny.

"Oh okay," Al held up a hand. "Break time. What was her mom thinking when she was born? Like, what should I name my daughter? You know what? Wait! I'll name her after the Muse of Comedy! Like, why?"

Reyna rolled her eyes as she forced back a chuckle. Talking to Al was like talking to a seven-year old, and then she'd suddenly say something which warned you to be wary of the keen intelligence inside.

When she was finally done, she tried to judge what Al was thinking. It was difficult to know, since Al's face was impassive as ever. Finally she shook her head.

"Jesus, Reyna. How the hell…" she stopped. "I guess there are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in my philosophy."

Reyna frowned. "I just hope that this new threat isn't too much to handle. The Camp can't keep taking hits like this. It'll destroy us."

Al shrugged. "Fight that battle when you get there. Get some sleep, Praetor. My little CPU here" she tapped the side of her head. "will be processing information meanwhile."

She picked up the violin, resting her chin on the wood and drawing the bow against the strings. It wasn't a tune Reyna knew, but then, she had never been good at identifying music. It was a little happy, a little sad, a lonely melody in the stillness of the night.

If she ever found the god who decided giving demigods visions during their sleep was a good idea, she wasn't sure she could stop herself from stab him with a spear. What on earth happened to a peaceful night's sleep?

She knows exactly where she is. She had heard enough about the place from Percy and Annabeth to know the Labyrinth when she saw it. An old man was walking next to her, an oil lamp in hand. His hair was white as snow, wrinkles creasing his face, neck branded with the figure of a bird, dressed in Ancient Greek style. Daedalus.

He walked straight ahead, like he knew the tunnel well. He touched a section of the wall, and a blue triangle, the Greek letter delta, glowed at his touch. A section of the wall rolled away, leaving another tunnel in front of him.

"This way, you say?" For a moment she thinks he's talking to her. Then she remembers what Annabeth had said. The Labyrinth is not just any maze. It's a living, growing, structure, which spreads underneath cities around the world. Daedalus was the creator of the Labyrinth. Communicating with it was probably possible for him. "Never saw this part before. Interesting." Daedalus mumbled. He looks so old and tired, it's as if he's going to fall over any moment.

He steps into the tunnel, which slopes down steeply, lined with brick walls. Surprisingly, there are no traps like Hazel said, instead it is just one long tunnel going down, probably because of Daedalus. His footsteps echoed along the long tunnel, the oil lamp in his hand the only source of light in the distance.

Daedalus stumbled over something, almost falling down. He raised his lamp just in time to see a skeleton before it crumbled to dust. Whoever it was had been dead for a long, long time.

They had been walking for so long now that it made her wonder how Daedalus was able to walk this distance, given his age. Just as she thought he was going to keel over and collapse, they came to a large door set into the rock wall where the tunnel ended abruptly.

Daedalus raised his lamp and looked at the stone door. "Not my design." He murmured. "Then who-" he walked down to the door and pressed it with the flat of his palm. There was a large, rumbling sound as the door groaned and swung forward slowly.

Inside was a large room, completely made of black volcanic rock. There was a stone bench in the center of the room, upon which some dust-covered objects were scattered. The whole place had a musty smell, like no one had been here for a long time. Tiny burnt-out lamps were arranged at regular intervals in the place. Other than that, the room was completely empty.

Daedalus hobbled over to the bench, and picked up a scroll of paper, discolored with time. He gently unrolled the scroll, blowing the dust away. The lines on his forehead deepened as he looked at the writing. "So strange." He muttered. "I have never seen-"

There was a sudden crash from behind. The old inventor immediately straightened up and looked behind. He grabbed the objects from the bench and hurriedly started walking towards the door.

She felt something tugging her from the cave. She struggled to remain there, to learn more, but the force was very persistent. Her eyes snapped open and she scowled at Al tapping her forehead.

"Knock, knock, anyone home?"

Reyna groaned. "Who wakes up people by knocking on their foreheads?"

"People who shook people awake before and nearly got strangled for their efforts, and now have learnt to maintain a safe distance from person being awoken. You take the whole 'grumpy in the morning' thing to another level."

Reyna glared at her. "I'm not 'grumpy'. What are you, five years old?"

"Plus twelve, sleepyhead. Wake up, I want out of this place."

The dreams came back to her. "I think I figured out what's inside the cave."

Al looked skeptical. "Without setting a foot inside? Crazy demigod stuff, I believe. What is it?"

"The Labyrinth."