Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or any of the characters. Except Kristina.

Thinking

"Speaking"

CHAPTER 5

Previously,

Annabeth noticed my grin and arched an eyebrow, "You seem to be oddly happy to be going in the Labyrinth. Did something happen?"

"Nothing." I replied, unable to stop grinning. "Nothing at all."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"You guys ready?" Annabeth asked, chewing the inside of her lip and tapping her thigh with her index finger.

Percy and I nodded. We walked over to Tyson and Grover, who were standing above the entrance to the Labyrinth.

"Take care," Chiron said. "And good hunting."

"Good-bye sunshine." Grover said nervously.

"Hello rocks." Tyson agreed.

And all five of us plunged in.

At first the corridor was straight for about 10 meters or so, then the twists and turns started.

To me it felt like there was a light where we were supposed to go along with a tugging in my gut.

"Left." I said, walking in front of everyone.

After what seemed like ten minutes of walking, we saw our 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.

"What?" Percy asked.

"They used to deliver milk."

While they continued their conversation, I let my thoughts drift to Travis.

Blushing at the memory of the kiss, I forced myself to pay attention to my friends.

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

"The milkman doesn'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."

I stifled a laugh at that.

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

"You're right." I spoke. "We're almost there, too."

I led us to the right, then the left, through a corridor of stainless steel like some kind of air shaft, and we arrived back in the Roman tile room with the fountain. This time, we weren't alone.

What I 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 I 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 turned to me.

I shook my head. "I'm not able to sense which side we have to go. This one's all you, Ann."

"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.

The two-faced doorman held a silver key, which he kept passing from his left hand to his right hand.

Behind us, the doorway we'd come through had disappeared, replaced by more mosaics.

We wouldn't be going back the way we 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."

I didn't know what they were talking about, but I think they were talking about Luke.

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

"Leave her alone," Percy defended her. "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 said.

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

I decided to try calming Annabeth down.

I walked to her, stood in front of her and forced her to look at me.

"Annabeth," I looked into her eyes. "Breathe."

She took a deep breath and exhaled.

"Calm down. Remember, you're the daughter of Athena, goddess of Wisdom. You're smarter than everyone here. Stay calm and think like you would for your architecture designs, yeah? Don't listen to them. They thrive on indecision. That's not you."

A little color returned to her face. She smiled shakily and nodded. "Thanks, Kristina."

"Anytime," I smiled.

I stepped to the side and back, letting Annabeth do her thing.

Annabeth licked her lips. "I—I choose—"

Before she could point to a door, a brilliant light flooded the room.

Janus raised his hands to either side of his head to cover his eyes.

When the light died, a woman was standing at the fountain.

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 she moved, the fabric shimmered with colors like oil on water.

"Janus," she said, "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.

The woman turned toward us, and 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.

That's when I recognized her. She was the one sitting next to Zeus, scowling at Thalia. She was –

"I am Hera." The woman smiled. "Queen of Heaven."

She served us 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.

Grover and Percy exchanged nervous looks.

"I didn't think—" Annabeth faltered. "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?" I guessed.

As soon as I said the name of our friend, the half-blood daughter of Zeus, Hera's eyes turned toward me frostily. "Kristina Di Angelo, isn't it? One of Hades's…children."

"Yes, Queen Hera." I smiled.

"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. "Although, your friend did quite a good job calming you down." She cast me another look.

"You must understand," She said to Annabeth, "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."

Kronos, I remembered.

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

"That's where Dionysus went," Percy spoke. "He was checking on the minor gods."

"Indeed, son of Poseidon." 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."

"What are your goals?" Annabeth asked.

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."

"I... see."

I chew on another sandwich, while there's a silence. Annabeth's wondering what her wish should be.

The room rumbled like distant thunder. Hera stood. "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. Whatever your wish may be, simply say 'My wish is' along with whatever it is."

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.

"Which way?" Annabeth asked.

Then Grove, Tyson and I tensed. We stood up together. "Left," the three of us said together.

Annabeth frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Something is coming from the right," Grover said. "Something big," Tyson agreed.

"In a hurry." I added.

"Left is sounding pretty good," Percy decided. Together we plunged into the dark corridor.

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, we ran into an enormous boulder that completely blocked our path. Behind us, the sounds of dragging footsteps and heavy breathing echoed down the corridor. Something—definitely not human—was on our tail.

"Tyson," I 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!"

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

"Close the entrance!" Annabeth said.

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

"We trapped it," Percy said.

"Or trapped ourselves," Grover whimpered.

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

"What in Hades?" Annabeth tugged on the bars.

"Hey, don't use my father's name as a cuss." I pouted.

"Sorry,"

She went back to tugging on the bars.

They didn't budge. Through the bars we 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 noted. He's very observant that way. "Maybe Tyson can break—"

"Shh," Grover interrupted. "Listen."

Somewhere above us, deep sobbing echoed through the building.

There was another sound, too—a raspy voice muttering something that I couldn't make out. The words were strange, like rocks in a tumbler.

"What's that language?" Percy whispered.

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

"What?" I asked.

He grabbed two bars on our cell door and bent them wide enough for even a Cyclops to slip through.

"Wait!" Grover called.

But Tyson wasn't about to wait. We ran after him. The prison was dark, only a few dim fluorescent lights flickering above.

"I know this place," Annabeth told Percy. "This is Alcatraz."

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

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

"Freeze," Grover warned.

But Tyson kept going.

I tried something I had only practiced with Alessandro.

I stretched my power and willed for Tyson's shadow to stay in place. It works, but it takes almost half of my strength.

"Stop, Tyson!" I whispered.

"Can't you see it?" Grover asked.

I looked where he was pointing, and my stomach did a somersault.

On the second-floor balcony, across the courtyard, was a monster more horrible than anything I'd ever seen before. 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 I 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.

I got the feeling I was looking at something half formed, a monster so old it was from the beginning of time, before shapes had been fully defined.

"It's her," Tyson whimpered.

"Get down!" Grover said.

We crouched in the shadows, but the monster wasn't paying us 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 dragon woman said something in her weird rumbling language.

"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."

"You understand it?" I asked. "Can you translate?"

Tyson closed his eyes and began to speak in a horrible, raspy woman's voice.

"You will work for the master or suffer."

Annabeth shuddered. "I hate it when he does that."

"I will not serve," Tyson said in a deep, wounded voice. He switched to the monster's voice: "Then I shall enjoy your pain, Briares." Tyson faltered when he said that name.

He let out a strangled gulp.

Then he 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 dragon lady tromped toward the stairwell, vipers hissing around her legs like grass skirts.

She spread wings that I hadn't noticed before—huge bad wings she kept folded against her dragon back. She leaped off the catwalk and soared across the courtyard.

We crouched lower in the shadows. A hot sulfurous wind blasted my face as the monster flew over.

Then she disappeared around the corner.

"H-h-horrible," Grover stuttered, trembling slightly. "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?" Percy tilted his head.

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

"Very powerful," Tyson piped up, awe in his voice. "Wonderful! As tall as the sky. So strong they could break mountains!"

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

I rolled my eyes.

"Kampê was the jailer," Tyson continued. "She worked for Kronos. She kept our brothers locked up in Tartarus, tortured them always, until Zeus came. He killed Kampê and freed Cyclopes and Hundred-Handed Ones to help fight against the Titans in the big war."

"And now Kampê is back," Percy said.

"Bad," Tyson summed up.

"So, who's in that cell? You said a name—"

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

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

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

As we approached the cell, the weeping got louder.

When I first saw the creature inside, I wasn't sure what I 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 I 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!"

Briares looked up.

His face was long and sad, with a crooked nose and bad teeth. He had deep brown eyes—I mean 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."

"You are a Hundred-Handed One!" Tyson insisted. "You can do anything!"

Briares wiped his nose with five or six hands.

Several others were fidgeting with little pieces of metal and wood from a broken bed.

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.

"I cannot," Briares moaned. "Kampê is back! The Titans will rise and throw us back into Tartarus."

"Put on your brave face!" Tyson encouraged.

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 commented.

Tyson was still entranced. "It will be okay, Briares! We will help you! Can I have your autograph?"

Briares sniffled. "Do you have one hundred pens?"

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

"Break the bars," Annabeth said.

"Yes!" Tyson said, smiling proudly. "Briares can do it. 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 started, "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.

"I will break the bars," he repeated.

He grabbed the cell door and ripped it off its hinges like it was made of wet clay.

I wanted to smack Briares upside the head and drag him with us, but refrained. I have to let the rock, paper, scissors game happen.

"Come on, Briares," Annabeth said. "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 moaned. "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, I guess.

"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," I said. "Come on!"

He didn't move.

"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.

I nodded, telling her to trust him.

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

"Then let's do it!" Percy 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?"

"A gun," Percy told him, showing him his finger gun. "A gun beats anything."

"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."

But he slowly rose to his feet and followed us out of the cell.

I tensed. "Kampê's coming."

Then Tyson froze.

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

"The other way," I said.

We bolted down the catwalk. This time Briares was happy to follow us. In fact, he sprinted out front, a hundred arms waving in panic.

Behind us, I heard the sound of giant wings as Kampê took to the air.

She hissed and growled in her ancient language, but I didn't need a translation to know she was planning to kill us.

We 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."

We burst outside and found ourselves in the prison yard, ringed by security towers and barbed wire.

After being inside for so long, the daylight almost blinded me. 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. "She is behind us!"

We 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. 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," I 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 absolutely terrified face.

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

"I may be able to stop her, but you have to run as soon as she stops." I exhale. "Get back in the maze. I'll meet you guys there."

"But-" Percy and Annabeth both protested.

"Go!"

I started concentrating on Kampê's shadow. I reached out mentally, gripping it tight, making sure she can't move.

I gritted my teeth at the resistance she was putting up. I saw my friends run inside, Annabeth glancing back at me.

I pulled out an ambrosia square from my pocket and swallowed it. It tasted like vanilla ice cream.

I felt my strength returning.

I forced Kampê to walk closer to me by her shadow, and I started stepping back.

Soon, when we were far from the Labyrinth, I let go of her.

Slapping my bracelet, my bow emerged. Pulling back on the string and willing three arrows to appear, I shot.

The hit their marks. One in the middle of her forehead, one where her heart should be, and one in her stomach.

Before I could see what happened to her, using the last of my strength, I shadow-travelled to where I could feel my friends' life signature.

I felt my energy draining away, but I reached them. I fell to the ground immediately after.

I managed to say, "Kampê's dead," before I passed out.

I woke up to two voices talking in hushed whispers. I opened one eye slightly, and saw Annabeth and Percy sitting next to each other, leaning on a wall.

"You're doing great. Besides, we never know what we're doing. It always works out. Remember Circe's Island?" I heard Percy ask.

Annabeth snorted. "You made a cute guinea pig."

"And Waterland, how you got us thrown off that ride?"

"I got us thrown off? That was totally your fault!"

"See? It'll be fine."

Annabeth smiled, and I could see genuine happiness in both of their expressions.

I closed my eyes, and let sleep take me.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

That night I dreamt of Daedalus and his son, Icarus.

I woke up in a cold sweat just as Icarus plummeted to his death in the ocean.

That morning, after a delightful breakfast of granola bars, we started walking.

The old stone tunnels changed to dirt with cedar beams, like a gold mine or something.

Annabeth started getting agitated. "This isn't right," she said. "It should still be stone."

We came to a cave where stalactites hung low from the ceiling. In the center of the dirt floor was a rectangular pit, like a grave.

Grover shivered. "It smells like the Underworld in here."

Then I saw something glinting at the edge of the pit—a foil wrapper. I shined my flashlight into the hole and saw a half-chewed cheeseburger floating in brown carbonated muck.

"Nico," I said. "He was summoning the dead again."

Tyson whimpered. "Ghosts were here. I don't like ghosts."

"We've got to find him." I don't know why, but standing at the edge of that pit gave me a sense of urgency.

Nico was close, I could practically sense him.

"We have to find him." I said firmly. I must've said it with enough force, because they all followed my lead.

I started to run. I ducked into a tunnel and saw light up ahead.

By the time Annabeth, Percy, Tyson, and Grover caught up with me, I was staring at daylight streaming through a set of bars above my head.

We were under a steel grate made out of metal pipes. I could see trees and blue sky.

"Where are we?" Percy wondered.

Then a shadow fell across the grate and a cow stared down at me.

It looked like a normal cow except with was a weird color—bright red, like a cherry.

I didn't know cows came in that color. The cow mooed, put one hoof tentatively on the bars, then backed away.

"It's a cattle guard," Grover said.

"A what?" Percy asked.

"They put them at the gates of ranches so cows can't get out. They can't walk on them."

"How do you know that?"

Grover huffed indignantly. "Believe me, if you had hooves, you'd know about cattle guards. They're annoying!"

I turned to Annabeth. "Didn't Hera say something about a ranch? We need to check it out. Nico might be there."

She hesitated. "All right. But how do we get out?"

I was about to suggest I shadow travel them out, when Tyson solved our problem.

He hit the cattle guard with both hands. It popped off and went flying out of sight.

We heard a CLANG! and a startled Moo!

Tyson blushed. "Sorry, cow!" he called.

Then he gave us a boost out of the tunnel. We were on a ranch, all right.

Rolling hills stretched to the horizon, dotted with oak trees and cactuses and boulders. A barbed wire fence ran from the gate in either direction.

Cherry-colored cows roamed around, grazing on clumps of grass.

"Red cattle," Annabeth said. "The cattle of the sun."

"What?" Percy asked.

"They're sacred to Apollo."

"Holy cows?" A smile tugged at his lips. I was more worried about finding my brother.

"Exactly. But what are they doing—"

"Wait," Grover said. "Listen."

At first everything seemed quiet…but then I heard it: the distant baying of dogs. The sound got louder.

Then the underbrush rustled, and two dogs broke through. Except it wasn't two dogs. It was one dog with two heads.

It looked like a greyhound, long and snaky and sleek brown, but its neck V'd into two heads, both of them snapping and snarling and generally not very glad to see us.

"Bad Janus dog!" Tyson cried.

"Arf!" Grover told it, and raised a hand in greeting.

The two-headed dog bared its teeth. I guess it wasn't impressed that Grover could speak animal.

Then its master lumbered out of the woods.

He was a huge guy with stark white hair, a straw cowboy hat, and a braided white beard— kind of like Father Time, if Father Time went redneck and got totally jacked.

He was wearing jeans, a DON'T MESS WITH TEXAS T-shirt, and a denim jacket with the sleeves ripped off so you could see his muscles.

On his right bicep was a crossed-swords tattoo. He held a wooden club about the size of a nuclear warhead, with six-inch spikes bristling at the business end.

"Heel, Orthus," he told the dog.

The dog growled at us once more, just to make his feelings clear, then circled back to his master's feet.

The man looked us up and down, keeping his club ready.

"What've we got here?" he asked. "Cattle rustlers?"

"Just travelers," Annabeth said. "We're on a quest."

The man's eye twitched. "Half-bloods, eh?"

Percy started to say, "How did you know—"

Annabeth put her hand on his arm. "I'm Annabeth, daughter of Athena. This is Percy, son of Poseidon. Kristina, daughter of Hades, Grover the satyr. Tyson the—"

"Cyclops," the man finished. "Yes, I can see that." He glowered at Percy. "And I know half-bloods because I am one, sonny. I'm Eurytion, the cowherd for this here ranch. Son of Ares. You came through the Labyrinth like the other one, I reckon."

"The other one?" I asked. "You mean Nico di Angelo?"

"We get a load of visitors from the Labyrinth," Eurytion said darkly. "Not many ever leave."

"Wow," Percy commented. "I feel welcome."

The cowherd glanced behind him like someone was watching.

Then he lowered his voice. "I'm only going to say this once, demigods. Get back in the maze now. Before it's too late."

"We're not leaving," Annabeth insisted. "Not until we see this other demigod. Please."

Eurytion grunted. "Then you leave me no choice, missy. I've got to take you to the boss."

Eurytion walked alongside us with his club across his shoulder. Orthus the two-headed dog growled a lot and sniffed at Grover's legs and shot into the bushes once in a while to chase animals, but Eurytion kept him more or less under control.

We walked down a dirt path that seemed to go on forever. It must've been close to a hundred degrees, which was a shock after San Francisco.

Heat shimmered off the ground. Insects buzzed in the trees.

Before we'd gone very far, I was sweating like crazy. Flies swarmed us.

Every so often we'd see a pen full of red cows or even stranger animals.

Once, we passed a corral where the fence was coated in asbestos.

Inside, a herd of fire-breathing horses milled around. The hay in their feeding trough was on fire. The ground smoked around their feet, but the horses seemed tame enough.

"What are they for?" Percy asked.

Eurytion scowled. "We raise animals for lots of clients. Apollo, Diomedes, and…others."

"Like who?"

"No more questions."

Finally, we came out of the woods.

Perched on a hill above us was a big ranch house—all white stone and wood and big windows.

"It looks like a Frank Lloyd Wright!" Annabeth said.

We hiked up the hill.

"Don't break the rules," Eurytion warned as we walked up the steps to the front porch. "No fighting. No drawing weapons. And don't make any comments about the boss's appearance."

"Why?" Percy asked. "What does he look like?"

Before Eurytion could reply, a new voice said, "Welcome to the Triple G Ranch."

The man on the porch had a normal head, which was a relief. His face was weathered and brown from years in the sun.

He had a slick black hair and a black pencil moustache like villains have in old movies.

He smiled at us, but the smile wasn't friendly; more amused, like 'Oh boy, more people to torture!'

Then I noticed his body…or bodies. He had three of them. Now, reading about them, and using my own imagination is different from actually seeing it. It's weird.

His neck connected to the middle chest like normal, but he had two more chests, one to either side, connected at the shoulders, with a few inches between.

His left arm grew out of his left chest, and the same on the right, so he had two arms, but four armpits, if that makes any sense.

The chests all connected into one enormous torso, with two regular but very beefy legs, and he wore the most oversized pair of Levis I'd ever seen.

His chests each wore a different color Western shirt—green, yellow, red, like a stoplight.

I couldn't help but wonder how he dressed the middle chest, since it had no arms.

The cowherd Eurytion nudged me. "Say Hello to Mr. Geryon."

"Hi," I smiled. "Nice ranch you have."

Before the three-bodied man could respond, Nico di Angelo came out of the glass doors onto the porch.

"Geryon, I won't wait for—" He froze when he saw us. Seeing him, my breath stopped.

He was only ten, but he looked much older. His hair had grown longer. It was shaggy and almost touched his shoulders. His eyes were dark.

His olive skin had turned paler.

He wore ripped black jeans and a battered aviator's jacket that was several sizes too big, unzipped over a black shirt. His face was grimy, his eyes a little wild.

He looked like a kid who'd been living on the streets.

We just stood there, gaping at each other.

Then Geryon broke the silence, "You know each other?"

No one said a word.

A minute later, my brother spoke. "What are you guys doing here?"

"Quest," Percy answered.

"You idiot!" I spoke for the first time. "You stupid, idiotic brat!"

He looked shocked. "Wha-"

"You're only ten! You can't leave camp leaving only a note! Do you have any idea how worried I was? No! Why? Because you didn't stop to think how I would be affected by my little brother running away because of a childish grudge he holds! What were you thinking? And you left? Okay. But trying to raise the dead?! What is wrong with you? There's a reason people stay dead, Nico! You can't go around raising everyone! And listening to Minos of all people? Idiotic! You should know better than to listen to a murderous ghost! What w-" My rant was cut short by a blur of black tackling into me.

I was caught off guard, but I wrapped my arms around Nico. "I missed you, Neeks."

He didn't reply.

But that was okay.

I was just happy to see my brother again.

He pulled away from me and gave me a small smile. "It's nice to see you again."

"You too." I smiled and kissed his forehead.

He walked backwards and eyed my friends.

Then he twisted his ring and his sword materialized in his hand. My jaw dropped.

Geryon snarled when he saw it. "Put that away, Mr. di Angelo. I ain't gonna have my guests killin' each other."

"Nico, put the sword away," I frowned.

"They killed our sister," Nico's voice trembled with rage. "They want to kill me too!" He glared at Annabeth.

"Nico, we aren't here to kill you." Annabeth raised her arms in surrender. "What happened to Bianca was -"

"Don't you dare say her name." Nico snarled. "You're not worthy even to speak about her."

"Nico di Angelo," I said, forcefully calm. "Put the damn sword away before I make you."

He hesitated, but at my icy glare, he twisted his ring again. His sword disappeared.

He glared at Annabeth. "If you come near me, Annabeth, I'll summon my help. You don't want to meet my helpers." He threatened.

I let that one go.

"I believe you," Annabeth's voice shook ever so slightly. She sent me an apologetic glance, and I squeezed her hand to reassure her.

Geryon patted Nico's shoulder. "There, we've all made nice. Now come along, folks. I want to give you a tour of the ranch."

Geryon had a trolley thing—like one of those kiddie trains that take you around zoos. It was painted black and white in a cowhide pattern. The driver's car had a set of longhorns stuck to the hood, and the horn sounded like a cowbell.

Nico sat in the very back, probably so he could keep an eye on everyone.

I sat next to him, and Eurytion crawled in next to me with his spiked club and pulled his cowboy hat over his eyes like he was going to take a nap.

Orthus jumped in the front seat next to Geryon and began barking happily in two-part harmony.

While Geryon and the others spoke, Nico and I had a conversation.

"You really forgave them?" Nico asked me quietly.

"I did," I answered truthfully.

"How?"

"Most children of Hades have their fatal flaw as holding grudges," I explained. "It seems to be the case for you. I can forgive someone – not forget, mind you – and move on. It doesn't seem like you can do that."

"I... see. What's your fatal flaw?"

"I don't know yet." I shrugged.

He turned to me and stared at me with unreadable eyes. I just smiled down at him.

"So, what have you been doing these past months?" I asked.

"I trained with the dead a lot," Nico answered. "Minos has been advising me about things. I've been to dad's palace as well!"

"Really?"

"Yes." He nodded. He went on to describe the palace, and I saw a small smile on his lips. I think he missed being around people, but didn't trust them enough to make friends.

Just as he finished describing the palace, Hades, Persephone, and the others, we heard Geryon say, "Yes, and if Apollo cared, I'm sure he would tell us."

Nico sat forward. "I don't care about any of this, Geryon. We had business to discuss, and this wasn't it!"

"All in good time, Mr. di Angelo. Look over here; some of my exotic game."

He leaned back with a sigh. "Incompetent fools."

I arched an eyebrow. "What might this 'important business' be?"

Before he could answer, the smell from the stables hit us. I gagged along with everyone else.

"What is that?" Nico demanded, his eyes almost watering.

"My stables!" Geryon said. "Well, actually they belong to Aegas, but we watch over them for a small monthly fee. Aren't they lovely?"

"They're disgusting!" Annabeth exclaimed.

"Lots of poop," Tyson observed.

"How can you keep animals like that?" Grover cried.

"Y'all getting' on my nerves," Geryon said. "These are flesh-eating horses, see? They like these conditions."

"Plus, you're too cheap to have them cleaned," Eurytion mumbled from next to me. I stifled a laugh.

"Quiet!" Geryon snapped. "All right, perhaps the stables are a bit challenging to clean. Perhaps they do make me nauseous when the wind blows the wrong way. But so what? My clients still pay me well."

"What clients?" Percy demanded.

"Oh, you'd be surprised how many people will pay for a flesh-eating horse. They make great garbage disposals. Wonderful way to terrify your enemies. Great at birthday parties! We rent them out all the time."

"You're a monster," Annabeth decided.

Geryon stopped the moo-mobile and turned to look at her. "What gave it away? Was it the three bodies?"

"You have to let these animals go," Grover said. "It's not right!"

"And the clients you keep talking about," Annabeth said. "You work for Kronos, don't you? You're supplying his army with horses, food, whatever they need."

Geryon shrugged, which was very weird since he had three sets of shoulders. It looked like he was doing the wave all by himself.

"I work for anyone with gold, young lady. I'm a businessman. And I sell them anything I have to offer."

He climbed out of the moo-mobile and strolled toward the stables as if enjoying the fresh air.

It would've been a nice view, with the river and the trees and hills and all, except for the quagmire of horse muck.

Nico got out of the back car and stormed over to Geryon. The cowherd Eurytion wasn't as sleepy as he looked. He hefted his club and walked after Nico.

"I came here for business, Geryon," Nico said. "And you haven't answered me."

"Mmm." Geryon examined a cactus. His left arm reached over and scratched his middle-chest. "Yes, you'll get a deal, all right."

"My ghost told me you could help. He said you could guide us to the soul we need."

"Nico," I got out of the moo-mobile. "You are not raising Bianca."

He glared at me in a way that should have been scary, but it didn't affect me.

"You are not raising our sister," I repeated.

He crossed his arms defiantly.

"Bianca wouldn't want it," I said quietly.

"How would you know what she wants?" Nico sneered at me.

"She was my little sister, you moron!"

He seems shocked I insulted him.

I continued, "She willingly sacrificed herself. She wanted to give this to you, which is why she had to give her life in the first place!" I threw the Hades figurine at him. It bounced off his chest.

When he left, Nico left it along with the note.

"She... You still carry that around?" He whispered.

"Everyday." I answered. Then I said in a cold voice, "But if you want to be exactly what everyone says about children of Hades and resurrect our sister, by all means, do so and prove the world right, son of Hades."

His head snaps up at my cold tone. I shove my hands into my jacket's pocket and walk over to Annabeth, wiping a tear that slipped past.

She wrapped one arm around me and squeezed my shoulder.

"Now I could help you, Nico," the rancher continued, drawing everyone attention to him. "Can I call you Nico?"

"No," Nico answered.

"You see, Nico, Luke Castellan is offering very good money for half-bloods. Especially powerful half-bloods. And I'm sure – with you both being Hades's spawn – he'll pay very well." Geryon grinned, eyeing Nico and me.

Nico drew his sword, but Geryon swatted it out of his hand. Percy started to get up, but the dog pounced on his chest, claws on his throat.

"I would stay in the car, all of you," Geryon warned. "Or Orthus will tear Mr. Jackson's throat out. Now, Eurytion, if you would be so kind, secure Nico."

The cowherd spit into the grass. "Do I have to?"

"Yes, you fool!"

Eurytion looked bored, but he reached for Nico.

I had to clench my fist hard to stop myself from shadow travelling them to China.

He wrapped one huge arm around Nico and lifted him up like a wrestler.

"Pick up the sword, too," Geryon said with distaste. "There's nothing I hate worse than Stygian Iron."

Eurytion picked up the sword, careful not to touch the blade.

"Now," he continued cheerfully, "we've had the tour. Let's go back to the lodge, have some lunch, and send an Iris-message to our friends in the Titan army."

"You fiend!" Annabeth cried.

Geryon smiled at her. "Don't worry, my dear. Once I've delivered Mr. di Angelo, you and your party can go. I don't interfere with quests. Besides, I've been paid well to give you safe passage, which does not, I'm afraid, include Mr. di Angelo."

"Paid by whom?" Annabeth said. "What do you mean?"

"Never you mind, darlin'. Let's be off, shall we?"

"Wait!" Percy spoke, and Orthus growled.

He made sure to stay perfectly still so the dog wouldn't tear his throat out. "Geryon, you said you're a businessman. Make me a deal."

Geryon narrowed his eyes. "What sort of deal? Do you have gold?"

I thought about that. I could try to have some gold pop out, Hazel style. I'll have to try that later.

"I've got something better. Barter."

"But Mr. Jackson, you've got nothing."

"You could have him clean the stables," Eurytion suggested innocently.

"I'll do it!" Percy jumped at his chance.

"If I fail, you get all of us. Trade us all to Luke for gold."

"Assuming the horses don't eat you," Geryon observed.

"Either way, you get my friends," Percy said. "But if I succeed, you've got to let all of us go, including Nico."

"No!" Nico screamed. "Don't do me any favors, Percy. I don't want your help!"

Geryon chuckled. "Percy Jackson, those stables haven't been cleaned in a thousand years…though it's true I might be able to sell more stable space if all that poop was cleared away."

"So, what have you got to lose?"

The rancher hesitated. "All right, I'll accept your offer, but you have to get it done by sunset. If you fail, your friends get sold, and I get rich."

"Deal."

He nodded. "I'm going to take your friends with me, back to the lodge. We'll wait for you there."

Eurytion gave Percy a funny look. It might have been sympathy.

He whistled, and the dog jumped off him and onto Annabeth's lap. She yelped.

Percy got out of the car and locked eyes with Annabeth.

"I hope you know what you're doing," she said quietly.

"I hope so, too."

Geryon got behind the driver's wheel. Eurytion hauled Nico into the backseat.

"Sunset," Geryon reminded me. "No later."

He laughed at me once more, sounded his cowbell horn, and the moo-mobile rumbled off down the trail.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Percy arrived just as the sun was setting. Barely on time. We had to let Geryon tie us up, even though I was positive I could stop him.

Maybe.

After explaining how Percy cleared the stables, he demanded Geryon let us go.

"Ah, I've been thinking about that. The problem is, if I let them go, I don't get paid." Geryon complained.

"You promised!" Percy protested.

Geryon made a tsk-tsk noise. "But did you make me swear on the River Styx? No, you didn't. So, it's not binding. When you're conducting business, sonny, you should always get a binding oath."

Percy drew his sword. Orthus growled. One head leaned down next to Grover's ear and bared its fangs.

"Eurytion," Geryon said, "the boy is starting to annoy me. Kill him."

Eurytion studied my friend. "Kill him yourself."

Geryon raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

I took the moment to tap Bianca's bracelet. The scimitars popped into my hand, cutting through the ropes tying my hands.

Thankfully, Geryon didn't notice, because his back was turned to me.

"You heard me," Eurytion grumbled. "You keep sending me out to do your dirty work. You pick fights for no good reason, and I'm getting tired of dying for you. You want to fight the kid, do it yourself."

Geryon threw down his spatula. "You dare defy me? I should fire you right now!"

"And who'd take care of your cattle? Orthus, heel." The dog immediately stopped growling at Grover and came to sit by the cowherd's feet.

"Fine!" Geryon snarled. "I'll deal with you later, after the boy is dead!"

He picked up two carving knives and threw them at Percy.

He deflected one with his sword. The other impaled itself in the picnic table an inch from Eurytion's hand.

Percy went on the attack. Geryon parried his first strike with a pair of red-hot tongs and lunged at his face with a barbecue fork.

Percy got inside his next thrust and stabbed him right through the middle chest.

"Aghhh!" Geryon crumpled to his knees.

Percy waited for him to disintegrate; the way monsters usually do.

But instead, he just grimaced and started to stand up. The wound in his chef's apron started to heal.

"Nice try, sonny," he said. "Thing is, I have three hearts. The perfect backup system."

He tipped over the barbecue, and coals spilled everywhere. One landed next to Annabeth's face, and she let out a muffled scream. Tyson strained against his bonds, but even his strength wasn't enough to break them.

Geryon's back was still turned to me, so I activated my bracelet, and knocked three arrows in my bow.

"Hey Geryon!" I called.

I let go of the arrows as soon as he saw me. Each arrow hit its mark, embedding themselves into his hearts.

Percy ran towards Annabeth and untied her. "Are you guys alright?"

"Yeah..." Annabeth nodded, slightly shaken.

Percy untied Grover and Tyson, and I untied Nico.

Percy turned to me. "Thank for helping me."

"No problem." I smiled.

"Can we tie up this cowherd now?" Nico asked.

"Yeah!" Grover agreed. "And that dog almost killed me!"

I looked at Eurytion, who still was sitting relaxed at the picnic table. Orthus had both his heads on the cowherd's knees.

"How long will it take Geryon to re-form?" I asked him.

Eurytion shrugged. "Hundred years? He's not one of those fast re-formers, thank the gods. You've done me a favor."

"You said you'd died for him before," Percy remembered. "How?"

"I've worked for that creep for thousands of years. Started as a regular half-blood, but I chose immortality when my dad offered it. Worst mistake I ever made. Now I'm stuck here at this ranch. I can't leave. I can't quit. I just tend the cows and fight Geryon's fights. We're kinda tied together."

"Maybe you can change things," Percy shrugged.

Eurytion narrowed his eyes. "How?"

"Be nice to the animals. Take care of them. Stop selling them for food. And stop dealing with the Titans."

Eurytion thought about that. "That'd be all right."

"Get the animals on your side, and they'll help you. Once Geryon gets back, maybe he'll be working for you this time."

Eurytion grinned. "Now, that I could live with."

"You won't try to stop us leaving?"

"Heck no."

Annabeth rubbed her bruised wrists. She was still looking at Eurytion suspiciously. "Your boss said somebody paid for our safe passage. Who?"

The cowherd shrugged. "Maybe he was just saying that to fool you."

"What about the Titans?" I asked. "Did you Iris-message them about Nico yet?"

"Nope. Geryon was waiting until after the barbecue. They don't know about him."

Nico was glaring at Percy.

"You could stay here until we're done with our quest," Percy told him. "It would be safe."

"Safe?" Nico echoed incredulously. "What do you care if I'm safe? She got my sister killed!"

"Nico," Percy said, "that wasn't Annabeth's fault. And Geryon wasn't lying about Kronos wanting to capture you. If he knew who you were, he'd do anything to get you on his side."

"I'm not on anyone's side. And I'm not afraid."

"You should be," Annabeth said. "Your sister wouldn't want—"

"If you cared for my sister, you'd help me bring her back!"

"A soul for a soul?" Percy asked.

"Yes! But I'm not explaining anything to you!" He blinked tears out of his eyes. "And I will bring her back."

"Bianca wouldn't want to be brought back," Annabeth said. "Not like that."

"You didn't know her!" he shouted. "How do you know what she'd want?"

I was quiet the whole time, but I spoke this time. "Let's ask her."

"I've tried," Nico said miserably. "She won't answer."

"Try again. I've got a feeling she'll answer with me here."

"Why would she?"

"A hunch." I shrugged. I turned to Eurytion, "We're going to need a pit, like a grave. And food and drinks."

"Kristy," Annabeth warned. "I don't think this is a good—"

"All right," Nico said. "I'll try."

Eurytion scratched his beard. "There's a hole dug out back for a septic tank. We could use that. Cyclops boy, fetch my ice chest from the kitchen. I hope the dead like root beer."

We did our summons after dark, at a twenty-foot-long pit in front of the septic tank. The tank was bright yellow, with a smiley face and red words painted on the side: HAPPY FLUSH DISPOSAL CO.

It didn't quite go with the mood of summoning the dead.

The moon was full. Silver clouds drifted across the sky.

"Minos should be here by now," Nico said, frowning. "It's full dark."

"Maybe he got lost," Percy said hopefully.

Nico poured root beer and tossed barbecue into the pit, then began chanting in Ancient Greek.

Immediately the bugs in the woods stopped chirping.

"Make him stop," Tyson whispered.

I ignored him. I was nervous and happy at the same time. Bianca's going to appear any minute now.

Soon, the first spirits appeared.

Sulfurous mist seeped out of the ground. Shadows thickened into human forms.

One blue shade drifted to the edge of the pit and knelt to drink.

"Stop him!" Nico said, momentarily breaking his chant. "Only Bianca may drink!"

"Get away!" I commanded with as much force as possible.

Most of the spirits were automatically pushed back. But one managed to drink.

He had already solidified into the shape of a bearded man in white robes. A circlet of gold wreathed his head, and even in death his eyes were alive with malice.

"Minos!" Nico said. "What are you doing?"

"My apologies, master," the ghost said, though he didn't sound very sorry. "The sacrifice smelled so good; I couldn't resist." He examined his own hands and smiled. "It is good to see myself again. Almost in solid form—"

"You are disrupting the ritual!" Nico protested. "Get—"

The spirits of the dead began shimmering dangerously bright, and Nico had to take up the chant again to keep them at bay.

"Yes, quite right, master," Minos said with amusement. "You keep chanting. I've only come to protect you from these liars who would deceive you."

He turned to Percy as if he were some kind of cockroach. "Percy Jackson…my, my. The sons of Poseidon haven't improved over the centuries, have they?"

"We're looking for Bianca di Angelo," Percy said through gritted teeth. "Get lost."

The ghost chuckled. "I understand you once killed my Minotaur with your bare hands. But worse things await you in the maze. Do you really believe Daedalus will help you?"

"That's enough, Minos." I stepped forward.

"Ah, Kristina di Angelo. My master's sister." He mock bowed. "Daedalus cares nothing for you, half-bloods," Minos warned. "You can't trust him. He is old beyond counting, and crafty. He is bitter from the guilt of murder and is cursed by the gods."

"The guilt of murder?" Percy asked. "Who did he kill?"

"Do not changed the subject!" the ghost growled. "You are hindering Nico. You try to persuade him to give up on his goal. I would make him a lord!"

"You are the one hindering my brother, Minos." I hissed.

"Enough, Minos," Nico commanded.

The ghost sneered. "Master, these are your enemies. You must not listen to them! Let me protect you. I will turn their minds to madness, as I did the others."

"The others?" Annabeth gasped. "You mean Chris Rodriguez? That was you?"

"The maze is my property," the ghost said, "not Daedalus's! Those who intrude deserve madness."

"Be gone, Minos!" Nico and I ordered together. "I want to see my sister!"

The ghost bit back his rage. "As you wish, master. But I warn you. You cannot trust these heroes."

With that, he faded into mist. Other spirits rushed forward, but I kept them away with a flick of my wrist.

"Bianca, appear!" Nico intoned.

He started chanting faster, and the spirits shifted restlessly.

"Any time now," Grover muttered.

Then a silvery light flickered in the trees—a spirit that seemed brighter and stronger than the others. It came closer, and something told me to let it pass.

It knelt to drink at the pit. When it arose, it was the ghostly form of Bianca di Angelo.

Nico's chanting faltered. I just stared.

The other spirits started to crowd forward, but Bianca raised her arms and they retreated into the woods.

"Hello, Annabeth," she said.

She looked the same as she had in life: a green cap set sideways on her thick black hair, dark eyes and olive skin like her brother.

She wore jeans and a silvery jacket, the outfit of a Hunter of Artemis. A bow was slung over her shoulder.

She smiled faintly, and her whole form flickered.

"Bianca," Annabeth said. Her voice was thick.

I knew she felt guilty about Bianca's death for a long time, but I think seeing her made it worse.

"I'm so sorry," Annabeth's voice quivered.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Annabeth. I made my own choice. I don't regret it."

"Bianca!" Nico stumbled forward like he was just coming out of a daze.

She turned toward our brother. Her expression was sad, as if she'd been dreading this moment.

"Hello, Nico. You've gotten so tall."

"Why didn't you answer me sooner?" he cried. "I've been trying for months!"

"I was hoping you would give up."

"Give up?" He sounded heartbroken. "How can you say that? I'm trying to save you!"

"You can't, Nico. Don't do this. Annabeth and Kristina are right."

"No! She let you die! She's not your friend."

Bianca stretched out a hand as if to touch his face, but she was made of mist. Her hand evaporated as it got close to living skin.

"You must listen to me," she said. "Holding a grudge is dangerous for a child of Hades. It is our fatal flaw. You have to forgive. You have to promise me this."

"I can't. Never."

"Kristina has been worried about you, Nico. She can help. So can Annabeth and Percy."

Nico screamed. "It's not fair!"

"You are close to the truth now," Bianca told him. "It's not Annabeth you're mad at, Nico. It's me."

"No."

"You're mad because I left you to become a Hunter of Artemis. You're mad because I died and left you alone. I'm sorry for that, Nico. I truly am. But you must overcome the anger. And stop blaming Annabeth for my choices. It will be your doom."

"She's right," Percy broke in. "Kronos is rising, Nico. He'll twist anyone he can to his cause."

"I don't care about Kronos," Nico said. "I just want Bianca back."

"You can't have that, Nico," Bianca told him gently. "Plus, you still have one sister." She smiled at me. "Hello Kristy."

I smiled sadly, tears in my eyes. "Bianca..."

"How have you been?"

"I've been better." I shrugged, a smile spreading across my lips. "How's the Underworld treating you?"

"It's nice," She admitted. "I was sent to Elysium, but I think I'm going to try for the Isle of the Blest."

"You deserve it."

She smiled.

"I miss you, Bianca." I whispered, my throat hurting from the strain of talking through a lump.

"I know, and I'm sorry for that."

"No, don't be! You have nothing to be sorry for. I accepted your decision to become a Hunter, and... I'm accepting this one too." I said firmly.

"Thank you, Kristina. It means a lot to me."

Nico spoke up, replying to the last thing my sister said to him. "I'm the son of Hades! I can."

"Don't try," she said. "If you love me, don't…" Her voice trailed off.

Spirits had started to gather around us again, and they seemed agitated. Their shadows shifted. Their voices whispered, Danger!

"Tartarus stirs," Bianca said. "Your power draws the attention of Kronos. The dead must return to the Underworld. It is not safe for us to remain."

"Wait," Nico said. "Please—"

"Good-bye, Nico," Bianca said. "I love you. Remember what I said. Bye, Kristina. I love you, as well."

"I love you too." I managed before her form shivered and the ghosts disappeared, leaving us alone.

I knelt down and gave Nico a hug. With no resistance, he gave in.

Annabeth forced the other to go back inside, giving us some privacy.

I gave her a grateful smile while I let Nico sob into my shoulder.

Calming down slightly, Nico pulled away, visibly embarrassed.

"Alright, now?" I smiled.

"I'm fine," He looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.

"Of course," I stood up. "Come inside once you feel better. No more raising the dead." Planting a kiss on the top of his head, I said, "I love you."

I walked inside, and I heard a mumble I could've sworn was an 'I love you, too.'

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DOUBLE UPDATE! I don't know why, but I don't you're complaining, right

Anyway, I don't have anything to add so...

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Bye!

Kristina...