By nightfall (or at least what I figured could have been night because dogs were not nocturnal creatures), the maze had grown cold, and my body had become something much more abstract. I couldn't feel my fingers and toes so much as simply wade in a loosely-knit network of pains and aches. Many had awaken as I wasted away in the cage and time slogged on and the dogs mulled about aimlessly.

My head had grown tired of compliance, for one. And every time I ran my fingers absently across the itch by my throat, the fingers came away red. Hunger was also setting in. It wasn't so bad, now, but I knew what a slippery slope that was. Now, I could stand it. In a few days?

No matter how bad the wounds you knew were, hunger was always worse. Hunger was deeper than any cut, relentless beyond any poison, and scarier than any amount of blood.

What really bothered me was the way my mouth watered at the mystery meat the dog-people happily tore into, without the hindrance of cleanliness or mind for utensils. I didn't ask where it had come from just in case they planned on offering me any. But, of course, they didn't.

And so now here I was, drifting like a loose piece of dust or a wanderer of the Labyrinth - hah - in the dark, beneath gleaming, bloody bars. My mind had lost all interest in trivial escape plans or futile dreams of burgers. Just kind of existed.

I'd have slept if I wasn't so afraid to leave my captors unattended. My mind wandered into places it shouldn't have again.

Maybe... maybe if I killed enough monsters, Father would be impressed enough to give Bianca back...

Something howled.

The dogs leaped from sleep and into fighting positions, crouched and bristling and growling so loudly they all sounded like Zeus himself storming through the corridors. The noise was like needles in my ears. I groaned and rolled onto my back, then bit back a curse as that only jostled a few unpleasant things.

The howl came again. The growling stopped rather suddenly. Soft pads and scuffles and even a few friendly yips could be heard. Slowly, slowly, like cold frost crawling up and over the boldest winter grass, those quiet exchanges built into excited barks. Words bubbled into a bursting existence.

"Bloodtooth! It is Alpha-pup Bloodtooth!"

Alpha-pup? So it was his brother I killed? Well, that explained a few things.

Interest sparked in me as their words melded back into their native tongue, the urge to look raging. So of course I pretended to be asleep, or otherwise to not care. This was still the maze, after all.

"Quiet!" I heard Bloodtooth snap. The dogs fell silent. Heavy footsteps quit echoing playfully and became real, heavy things. Approaching at a leisure pace.

Asleep. Stay asleep. Stay quiet and still and seemingly harmless and pretty unreadable. And stay patient.

Bianca was going to be so proud of me when I got her back.

Bloodtooth halted at the cage. I waited for him to snort or snip or maybe even say something and then walk away, off to his den or nest or whatever it is you'd call a demon's home. Cave. Burrow.

Maze.

But instead, the cage opened.

Patience. Too many here. Too many watching.

But I want to. He has my sword. I could take it and feel it again, like it's a part of me. I could use it.

Too many. If you run into a massacre, who'll come for Bianca?

I almost yelled in frustration as the thoughts ran around in suicidal circles, they were so fast and relentless. Before I could pick a winner, the cage was closed again.

Laughter tickled my throat at that. Of course there was no winner. That title belong to the maze, to the problem, to the very contest. Who else gained quite as much? Ha-ha. Hilarious.

Isn't it?

Something moved. Right there, right next to me, an explosion of snarls and scuffling. My arms tensed and my eyes snapped open. It wasn't a dog, but it looked and moved like one. The shadows shifted and in that way I saw it; a massive shape heaving itself at the edges of the containment, heedless of the spikes, mindless of the hot blood that showered down across my nose and in the dirt and reeked with a hot, revolting stench. Of any pain it might've been in.

I slowly relaxed and closed my eyes again, and left my ears on sharp guard. The thing was insane. No use forcing any communication between us, not without observing first, so I pretended to stay asleep. It didn't seem to have noticed my mistake.

Bloodtooth snarled at it. "Sad. Worst than Tribe-Killer Second. Much sadness. I liked you."

Now he left.

Still, the crazy thing swiped at the cage. For several minutes. The other dogs held a pressed silence, save the three or so in the back whispering.

Ya know, maybe if the insane creature died, I could eat it. That'd tide over the hunger and tick the dogs off...

"You!" the new prisoner gasped. Then it lunged at me.

I swear, I had never moved so fast. I didn't bolt upright but instead rolled over and dashed across the cage as fast as I could crawl. The sandy rock floor scraped at my palms and I caught a small scratch off the cage, but it was nothing, could never burn as much as the need to move.

"Stop! Stop!" my roommate snapped. "I'm trying to help you. Again. Don't you recognize your savior?"

He chose that moment to start glowing.

I wasn't sure if I should've been glad or depressed. I settled for annoyed. "Quit that! I was trying to sleep!"

The glow dimmed sharply. "Geez. Ungrateful brat." Mr. Bombastic scooted forward slowly. "Here. Your scratches look bad. I was just trying to give you some ambrosia." He held out one of his dessert-medicines.

It smelled good. It looked sickly in his light. But still, I could see... a few sugar crystals on it, glimmering brightly... I snatched it up fast and hid it beneath my tongue before the dogs could see.

It melted slowly there. Sliding down my throat like liquid. A world of warmth bloomed from it. Even the hunger lost its edge.

"Yeah. Told you. Have one more. If I'm going to bust us out of here, you need to be in shape to run, else all my efforts will have been for nothing. And I'm not interested in the pointless."

I ate another happily. The headache completely withered, at long last, and I no longer felt like I should be sleeping. My fingers moved when I asked them to. My eyes could see the little bright circles marking the curious dogs that watched us.

I could hear and feel the maze fully again. It creaked in recognition.

Mr. Bombastic had moved back to the front of the cage and peered curiously back at the canines. I joined him, and his light went out. We sat there for a long while, both patient, both worthy of Bianca's pride, and listened.

He tapped my hand roughly. Once, twice, three times... I counted twenty-three in total.

Twenty-three dogs in this room. Twenty-three quiet breathing patterns.

"I can take 'em," Mr. Bombastic decided.

I sighed. "Then how did one capture you?"

"It did not!" he protested with enough noise to wake the dead. But not, apparently, sleeping dogs. "It... I... I meant to get captured. I heard they had Tribe-Killer Second and knew it had to be you, so I let it take me. I couldn't leave you at their disgusting paws. My only weakness was this tender, loving heart of mine. It gets me into so much trouble that, now and then, I worry."

I blinked, caught between wondering about calling him out on that or wondering how he'd expected me to believe it. "...Did you just admit to having a weakness?"

He caught my look, apparently misread it, and rolled his eyes. "You don't get it. Why couldn't you have been a nice, hot girl?"

Not quite sure where the answer to that was supposed to come from, I retreated back a few feet.

There were more minutes of listening. Of being good, patient little boys. Then I caught his expectant look.

Oh. He was wanting me to listen to something else.

How odd, I thought as I laid against the floor again. He's the first person I've met who's asked me to work my magic. First living person, anyway. Most people are scared.

Scared of the bones and whispers. Scared of the wrong things.

I was scared of the way it all tasted to me. That... That I didn't find the bones so scary.

At the time, though, I was only grateful. Another trait Bianca had tried so hard to work into me. You see, this was the room the dogs ate in, and for all their gorging, they were dogs, and rarely thought to clean their mess beyond a few scratches among loose dirt.

And the dead don't leave this maze.

I opened my eyes and met Mr. Bombastic's expectant gaze. Anxious gaze. I couldn't count high enough to answer, so I did my best to mimic what people call a smile.

I got his larger-than-life grin in response.

oOo

Come morning, I had obtained three new things, soon to be four.

Two were squares of ambrosia shoved into an easy-to-reach pocket, to be available while on the move. The third was a chance out of this, a chance to cheat death, a chance to keep playing, a chance to gamble with the maze until I found Bianca again.

All thanks to Mr. Bombastic.

I heard him cussing furiously at the dogs now. He was filled with the anger that only humiliation could drive. There was practically heat pulsing relentlessly from every last syllable.

Good, because it was cold on the dirt where I laid patiently, and the hunger was trouble enough for this enormous task.

As if sensing my thoughts, the smallest of rumbles shook the earth beneath us. A gentle greeting or perhaps an impatient agreement. I almost chuckled now at the familiarity of it but bit my tongue - Mr. Bombastic had been right when he explained the dogs would still expect me to be injured, and I'd been so patient lately, it'd be a shame to break my good streak.

"What gives you the right, anyway?!" said ally screamed now. "You're nothing but cannibalistic hybrids! A bunch of mindless dogs!"

"Quiet," a female snarled irritably.

"Oh. Right," Mr. Bombastic allowed with that mean laugh of his. "I guess you're not a dog. Technically you're called a-"

"She barked QUIET!" a booming voice roared.

Mr. Bombastic snarled but did not speak.

Heavy footsteps approached from an echoing tunnel that had not been there before. Three sets, to be exact. I longed to look and see.

"Good dog," the speaker crooned. I sucked in a breath. No way Alpha had been able to roar so loud. Had that really been him?

I recalled him from the day before, the sleek muscles and unyielding eyes and the cuts across his palms and yes, yes, even aging and lost in grief, Alpha could be that loud. Loud and dangerous.

Mr. Bombastic growled.

"He disrespects," came Bloodtooth's low snarl.

"Peace," said a miniscule female voice. Perhaps Alpha's mate.

"You gave up on peace when you decided humans were a nice snack," Mr. Bombastic huffed. "In case you haven't noticed, most prey isn't voluntarily in that position. Living things like to stay that way."

"We kill to live," Alpha said somberly. "You kill for fun."

"What kind of loser doesn't use self-defense? Hel-lo, that jerk tried to bite my head off! He tried to kill my apprentice there, too! My apprentice didn't do anything! He didn't even defend himself and kill your stupid friend. I did! Ask him! Oh, right, my bad. You can't. Because you beat the-"

"Quiet," Bloodtooth snarled.

"-out of him! He isn't a Tribe-Killer or whatever! You're taking out your problems on innocent people! Zeus and all the other gods will punish you for it!"

"The gods," Alpha growled stiffly, "cannot take any more away from us. And they do not see in a place as dark as the maze. That's why you hide here, too, yes?"

"I," Mr. Bombastic spat, "do not hide."

"You killed litter-mate Sharpear," Bloodtooth cut them off sharply, "and after, you and Tribe-Killer Second killed many more. Killed hunter Goodnose and fighter Strongclaw. Calmtail and Softfoot and Roughbark. Swiftleg. No more is needing saying."

Come on, I pleaded silently. I'm patient but not perfect. Bianca would've loved me more if I was, perhaps enough to stay...

"You forgot one," Mr. Bombastic said helpfully.

Bloodtooth snarled. "You do not-"

"NOW!"

Sure enough, as promised, when I whirled around I could see the burn marks lining the bars of the cage, even faintly smell the smoke that the dogs must have dismissed as part of the maze. He'd even managed to lure Bloodtooth closer than the others.

I flung the shadow-magic as hard as I could, but wide as well. I felt its thrill as it slammed into the roof of the cage and sent it sailing across the room.

The ends poking up from the dirt had lost all menace now. Mr. Bombastic had cut them flat; they weren't even sharp.

Lots of things happened then. Mr. Bombastic yelled in triumph and charged into the room, the rough cage crashed into Alpha and his mate and they went down beneath it, and the dirt began to rip apart, and Bloodtooth yelped in fury, and everyone began to move-

And I was moving, too, straight for him. I felt the air rush by and heard his nails click as he took a swipe. It passed my ear by an inch, and then I was behind him.

Before I could leap, as fluid and lithe as the movement had become, he'd turned.

A white blur crashed into him. He didn't even budge - the skeleton just clattered and cracked against his form. He snarled at it and clamped his teeth down on the skull.

A blazing white pain lit up on my head as he did. I bit back a scream and took the chance - while he was distracted, I lunged. My fingers clamped on fur. He howled and turned and stomped and claws dug into my back, replacing the pain in my head. The skeleton fell to the floor. I screamed.

But my fingers finally closed on the scabbard and, on its other side, the chain. Four.

I tugged hard and it just barely slid free. The wolf snarled and leaped at me, murder in those cold blue eyes.

Mr. Bombastic - I hadn't even noticed when he arrived to help pull the sword free - yelled angrily, and a light flashed between us and the demon. It was so bright that I had to hide my eyes. Bloodtooth screamed.

"Move!" Mr. Bombastic barked, and I did not question him. I turned for the nearest exit and ran. His footsteps pulverized the ground at my heels. My legs were so glad to stretch and it was so relieving to hear each footfall he made unhindered.

We ran for our lives, indifferent more or less to the painful fires and cracks and splinters as bone was snapped by teeth. My arms began to twitch wildly as phantom wounds stabbed and ripped and blazed.

The dim light grew stronger and the screams of the fight louder as the air swelled and the walls snapped in. We'd entered the tunnel.

"Now!" Mr. Bombastic advised.

It took all my focus to drag the last bits of my mind from that room. It helped to focus on the way his living light raced skillfully across the ragged walls, slithering over shadows and relentlessly pushing forward. On two sets of footsteps and nothing else, not the scuffling or dirt or hard scrape of bone. Just the light and the distance falling, running away beneath us.

For a small moment, I felt as if I were falling apart at the seems. Then the skeletons were gone and I really was in the tunnel with Mr. Bombastic again.

As soon as they were gone, I felt my legs turn to lead. My feet knew much better than to trip now, though. Mr. Bombastic slowed until I'd wrestled the ambrosia free and crammed them into my mouth.

Howls reached us, but not the dogs. We took off again.

The maze pretended nothing of significance had happened.

oOo

We stopped after hours, when our breath ran out and our legs had grown hot and then cold and hot again and at last seemed to slowly trickle away entirely. Like liquid oozing from a leaky cup.

Bianca had always told me to be careful of that. To not make a mess. To always fear a crack in the china because it could mean the coming of the disaster she'd dubbed 'shattered glass,' even though the subject in consideration would technically still be china.

"Years down here," Mr. Bombastic panted, "and they still... can't navigate this... place any better than we can." That earned an exhausted laugh.

Howls still echoed around us. But they were distant, distant, and faded in and out. We sat down on the ground where we made sure there was no shattered glass or shattered china and breathed. My chest had started hurting by then, too. As if it had shrunk.

Water, now, the dogs had not denied me. My bottle was still clipped to my pants. It was half full. Half-full was a lot in my memories. But recently half-full had seemed to shrink, too, so I was careful to take so little. Then I passed it to Mr. Bombastic.

"So," he said after the last drop was gone. "How long do you think we have?"

I was still panting. "Uhm... An hour or so...?"

He nodded slowly. "That's what I figured. Oh, hey - raise your arms above your head. It helps you breathe better."

It made me feel like an idiot, but he did not laugh at my stupidity and it really did help my lungs feel better. It even cleared my head - it wasn't until then that I realized it had been clouded for the last stretch of the run.

"We'll need more water," Mr. Bombastic sighed wistfully.

"An exit, then," I sighed. "Looking for one won't work, though. No matter how good a looker you are. It's not like finding a lost trading card."

"I know, I know. But hoping you'll stumble across one while the dogs are breathing down your neck won't work, either. We'll have to set out ahead of them, before they find us, and be really careful. You think you can handle that? Setting out early, keeping your thoughts in check?"

I did not answer. He smiled knowingly. "Great. Wake me up in forty-five minutes or so." And to the rough stone floor he slumped.

I poked him. "Hey! I'm tired, too!"

"Yeah, well you can sleep when my time is up. I'll wake you when it's time to move out."

"But... If we're leaving early... And don't tell me you want it more again! That's not fair!"

"Never said it was fair," he sighed. "The longer you keep me up, the longer I'll have to sleep, and the worse off we'll both be. Unless you'd like to ditch my protection and take off on your own again."

The maze's hollow winds answered that morbid suggestion.

"Yeah. Thought so. Look, just take the time on watch to sew your precious security jacket or whatever. Shouldn't be too hard to do both, even here. Sewing's easy. Then it'll be all nice and whole again when we set out. That'd calm your tiny, sentimental little mind... I think I got some spare string somewhere..."

"Sentimental? I'm not sentimental!" I burst. "Besides, a jacket doesn't provide much security. It's a piece of cloth. That's... That's stupid."

He drew a thick white string from his pocket and dropped it in my lap. "Oh? Then why is it the only clean thing you wear? How come you dust it off so often? Why can I pick your jeans pockets but never get an opening for all the patches on that ratty leather? Hm?"

"You pick my pockets?!"

He smiled at me the way grown-ups do, that smile that said he knew something I didn't and that he liked that very much. The smile that Connor and Travis had given me, that Percy had worn, that Bianca had taped to her face as she waved goodbye when the white van and other questers took her away. "Someone special gave it to you. And your biggest weakness is that big heart of yours, hm? Just can't let stuff go? You're just like me."

And then I saw his eyes, and those eyes weren't smiling. They were much kinder than his display of teeth.

My fingers closed over the string. Once again, I could not speak. And I didn't need to.

He looked away sharply. "Well. Kind of. For you it's the biggest of many flaws; to be fair to myself, it's the only one I have." He slid back to the ground again. "Wake me in thirty minutes."

For five, I watched his closed eyes and the unnaturally precise rise and fall of his chest as he forced himself to breathe as if he were asleep. An old tactic Bianca had taught me to help you drift under. For those five minutes, my ears listened to the maze, and my mind slowly retreated back into the sanest of stages it still could call conquered.

From my jacket, I drew my Mythomagic cards. I was reluctant to part with my major players, the big guns, the rare ones. It'd taken ages to collect them all, and the disembowelment of every last special edition, platinum, exotic, spirit, and legendary deck that'd ever existed, from the Underworld Secrets pack to the Gremlin adds. And yet I didn't just want to give him some rinky-dink, low-level leet-nymph-quality minor Olympian.

In the end, it was Apollo's card that I slid into his pocket. "Here. To help minimize your only weakness. So the maze doesn't exploit it."