MAIN TITLE: The Keeper of Fate

WARNINGS: See first chapter for warnings.

NOTES: Thanks to Richasa, Negrum Equitum, Tired And Insprired, angel2u, FadedSunset, chaSing b0b, OcToPiRsQuIsHy and LSU lovePurple liveGold for reviewing this chapter

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the PJO series. Rick Riordan does.

Chapter 27: I See Big Brother Everywhere

A night at a hotel and about nine hours of 'driving' later, we pull up in a parking lot near Violet's apartment. I'm not exaggerating when I say I literally throw myself out of the car. That was absolute torture. Bubble-gum chewing, radio blasting, blabbing on her cellphone, griping to us about how we're damn lucky that it wasn't Black Friday yesterday or today because otherwise she would've just left us there. Not to mention her tendency to drive for three straight hours, then stop for washroom breaks or for food every fifteen minutes for the next hour, then drive for another three straight hours, then stop and spend almost half as long at Target because there's a sale. Never again.

Violet lets us into her apartment, which is an absolute mess, and then gets ready for work. Kyle and I sit on the edge of the couch in the living room, trying not to touch anything (Kyle because of how disgusting everything is, me because I'm afraid she might kill me), until Violet finishes transforming herself into a person who actually appears to be sane.

"All right, Kyle. My shift starts in two hours. You can stay here until I get back in the morning, and then we'll figure out how to get you home. As long as you make sure to tell Pa that none of this craziness was my fault. As for you—" She throws a nasty glare my way. "—you better be gone when I get back. You can use my washroom, you can eat my food—but stay away from my French vanilla ice cream!—and if you need money for a cab, you can have it. As long as you leave before I get back."

She sweeps out of the apartment and slams the door behind her.

"That was oddly generous of her," Kyle says, looking surprised.

I stare at him. "You're kidding me, right?"

"She could've just kicked you out," he points out.

"That's true," I admit grudgingly. "Well, I suppose I'd better take advantage of her unexpected hospitality."

And I do. I eat her pizza pockets ("The whole box, Dess, really? Do you know what she's going to do to me later when she finds out I allowed this?" Kyle cringes), and then hole myself up in her washroom for an entire hour and a half, using her shower and her tweezers and even a tiny bit of her make-up (some part of me shudders in horror), trying to do what she did. Trying to transform myself into a person that actually appears to be sane.

When I'm done, Kyle declares me passable. Then he calls a cab to drive me into Manhattan and gives me the necessary amount of money to pay for it, plus a worn coat that Violet never wears anymore. It's too big for me, but as long as it keeps me warm I honestly don't care.

We sit on the front steps of the building, trying to figure out how to say goodbye to each other. I don't know when I'll see him again. I don't know if I'll ever see him again.

I rest my head on his shoulder and he drapes his arm around me. Like we did when we were younger. When we were kids. When everything was so uncomplicated and we were so innocent. "Don't be a stranger this time, okay? I mean, it wouldn't kill you to phone me every once in a while."

My lips twitch upwards. "It might, actually. Demigod using a cellphone? Instant monster bait."

"Ah, that's right." He snaps his fingers. "I forgot. It's been a while since I've had to think about that kind of thing."

"So things got better after I left?" I try to make it sound like this doesn't bother me at all.

"Better?" he echoes. He considers this for a moment. "I suppose in terms of mythological beasts trying to eat me, yes, it got better. But I was completely miserable without you for the longest time, Dess. And I always felt bad about how we let that stupid breakup ruin our friendship."

"Same," I say ruefully. "I don't know why I ever thought it was a good idea to date my best friend."

Kyle shrugs. "It works for some people. It just didn't work for us. And I don't regret it, because we learned our lesson and now we'll never wonder about 'what ifs'."

I eye him incredulously. "When did you get so wise?"

"I was always this way," he brags. "You just weren't smart enough to notice."

I punch his arm just as the cab pulls up in front of the building. Kyle stands up and brushes invisible specks of dirt off his jeans. I grab my bag and take Kyle's offered hand. He pulls me to my feet and then into his arms. I hug him back with all my strength, but he doesn't complain.

After a couple of moments he releases me. "I know you said that calling me would be dangerous," he begins. "But call me anyway."

And I can't help but grin. "We'll see."

Sooner than I expected, I'm removing a sewer covering on a deserted Manhattan side street. I didn't think it was a good idea to have the cab driver take me right to the Camp's borders. Luke might have someone waiting to intercept me, to take me prisoner and try to get all the information I have about the Labyrinth. The best plan I could think of was to head to the entrance to the tunnel that leads to my underground room.

When I climb down the ladder into the tunnel, I find myself wishing I had just taken the cab directly to Camp. This place reminds me too much of the Labyrinth, with the stale air and the bedrock under my feet and the walls closing in all around me. I think I might be claustrophobic now.

I know I shouldn't, but I look for the Greek delta that first brought Clarisse and me into Daedalus' maze. It's there, exactly where it was months before. Just a tiny triangle. Three little lines. A shudder ripples through my entire body and I have to dig my nails into my arm to keep from screaming or throwing up.

It's just a mark. If I don't press it, nothing will happen. Nothing will happen. I'm never going back there. Never, never again.

I walk down the tunnel but it's like I have eyes in the back of my head and they're locked on that little triangle that seems to be burning in the darkness.

And then I just can't take it anymore.

I start to run.

It doesn't take me even half as long to travel the length of the tunnel as it did last time, probably because I don't have to search every inch of the wall this time. Before I know it, I've slapped the button that opens the doorway to my room.

My room. I drink in the sight of it. It's familiar. It's safety. For the first time in months, I am actually, genuinely safe.

I glance at the desk. Was there always that much junk on it? Huh. Maybe I should clean this place up sometime. Finally I find what I'm looking for: the clock. The glowing lights read 10:48. My brothers are probably still awake, and I'm dying to see them again.

Something holds me back. I remember the teenager from the Falls. What if I scare my brothers like I scared that girl? I think of Jake. Jake who hugged me around the waist after Luke broke my heart, who screamed for me when that giant eagle was about to attack him—not Beckendorf, who is infinitely more capable in a fight than I am, but me. Because I'm the big sister. I'm the one who protects him and teases him and loves him to pieces.

What if the sight of me scares him? Come on, Dess, he's not a little kid anymore, I chastise myself. He fights monsters on a regular basis, and you think he's going to be scared of you?

But still I can't find it in me to walk upstairs and reveal myself to them. First thing tomorrow, I promise. Tomorrow.

I curl up on the bed that I haven't slept in in more than a year, my anklet clenched tightly in my hand for reassurance, and, for the first time in a long time, fall seamlessly into dreamless sleep.

I wake up to pounding footsteps coming from somewhere above me. In an instant I'm on my feet, my anklet switching into sword-mode, looking for a place to hide from the enemy.

All I see are clothes on the floor and a desk piled high with garbage. I'm standing with one foot on Luke's old (clean) boxers.

Oh. Right. I'm back at Camp. Those noises I hear are probably from my brothers running around all over the place getting ready for the day. The clock says it's 7:53. Breakfast is at 8:00. Should I let them leave and find Chiron to report everything that happened (well, maybe not everything…) instead?

No. No. These are my brothers. I'm not going to let myself be too scared to see them after all this time. Besides, they'd kill me if they found out I talked to Chiron before going to them.

I take a deep breath and press a button on the wall, making the door slide open. I peek around but no one seems to be down here.

I hesitate with my foot on the bottom step of the stairs for at least five minutes, and then force myself to keep going. The next thing I know I'm standing at the top of the stairs, staring at my brothers as they rush to put on their socks (Beckendorf—he's got an awful bruise on his face, maybe he's been dealing with violent mechanical horses again), or comb their hair (Zeth—was he always that big, or has he grown a couple of inches since I last saw him?), or slip mini dynamite sticks into their pocket (Jake—he really needs a haircut, his bangs are falling into his eyes). But no Gareth. He's out there somewhere in the mortal world. He's gone. Just like he told me he would be the day I set off on my quest.

Soon Zeth and Jake are ready to go, whereas Beckendorf is still sitting on his bed (Gareth's old one, the lucky bastard), examining his face in a large piece of reflective metal that functions pretty well as a mirror. None of them have noticed me yet.

I take a couple of steps forward as Jake, who has his back to me, says, "Beckendorf, we have to go. Stop checking yourself out, you're not going to suddenly transform into Silena's dream guy."

Our new esteemed head counsellor goes beet red. "I wasn't— I was just trying to see if my bruise had faded—"

"You know," I say casually, "I have trouble believing that."

Beckendorf drops his makeshift mirror, Zeth's mouth falls open and Jake spins around so fast he nearly trips.

"Hi," I say.

For a second they just stand there, frozen in shock. To my surprise, Zeth is the first to snap out of it. He smiles and says, "Welcome home, Dess."

Jake launches himself at me in a hug and almost knocks me to the ground, but I don't care. He clings to me for so long that Beckendorf finally has to pry him off me, at the same time saying, "Hey, man, it's my turn." And then he picks me up and swings me around in a circle like I'm a little girl and I'm laughing so hard that I think I might be crying. Zeth is last and his hug is brief, but when he pulls away he says, "I missed you."

"We all did," Jake adds. "Especially on your birthday. I had this really cool prank planned out and I never got to use it. Couldn't you have gotten back a couple of days earlier?"

I roll my eyes. "Yeah, that was high on my list of priorities. Get back in time for my birthday so that my baby brother can prank me."

"I'm not a baby," he protests, but he's grinning.

Then we hear the conch shell. It's been so long since I've heard it that I have to smile. "All right," I say, "You guys better go to breakfast. Tell Chiron that I'm waiting at the Big House, but try to make sure no one hears you." I pause for a moment, and then ask a question I'm dreading the answer to. "Is Clarisse back?"

Beckendorf grimaces. "No," he says, and my spirits plummet. "I heard from Mark that she sent an Iris-message to Chiron a few days ago, though. She said she'd gotten separated from you. We were really worried."

"Well, I'm not the one you should've been worried about, apparently." I remind myself that if I can make it, than Clarisse can too. "Now get going, or you'll be late and who knows what Mr. D will do to you."

"Fine," Jake groans. "But you'd better be around later. I want to hear everything about your quest."

Yeah, not likely. But I smile and nod anyway.

I'm not waiting in the Big House for very long before they appear. Chiron hugs me and over his shoulder I can see Mr. D sneering at me. When the centaur lets me go we head to the rec room. I drag a chair to the Ping-Pong table and sink into it wearily.

"Beckendorf said something about an Iris-message from Clarisse?" I ask.

"Yes, but we still want to hear your story," Chiron requests.

So I begin my story, at first telling them things they've probably already heard from Clarisse. How impossible it was to navigate the Labyrinth, how we ended up in Louisiana in a matter of days and found that more than a month had passed had passed, how we found that underground base and looked at all those maps and read all those reports and eavesdropped on Luke and Kelli's conversation, how we ran into the Oneiroi and Poseidon saved us, how I got separated from Clarisse.

For the most part Chiron just nods occasionally and says nothing, but he raises his eyebrow when I mention something that Clarisse clearly didn't tell him, like the fact that the spy at Camp is a son of Ares or that Clarisse stole Chris' report, and when I'm very obviously leaving something out that Clarisse already told them, like the fact that Kelli mentioned me to Luke or that Poseidon threatened me.

Mr. D looks utterly bored the entire time, except for three instances: when I mention that Daedalus might still be alive, he snorts in disbelief; when I tell them Poseidon's theory about how Morpheus might willingly/unwillingly be working for the Titan Lord, his expression turns grim; and when Chiron asks me to recount everything I can remember from the reports I read and I say the name Beaujolais Gillette, he narrows his eyes dangerously in barely supressed fury, making me honest-to-Zeus afraid for my life.

I hesitate when they tell me to continue the story from after I parted ways with Clarisse. The thing is, they're both so old, they know pretty much everything. (Not that I would ever admit that to either of them.) They must've known that clear-sighted mortals can navigate the Labyrinth, but they never said anything about it and the only reason they wouldn't is if they didn't want mortals guiding us through the maze. It must not be acceptable, which means I'll get in trouble if I admit that Kyle helped me get back. And besides, if I told them about Kyle, I'd be forced to explain why Apollo was so interested in keeping me alive that he visited a mortal boy in his dreams and convinced him to venture into Labyrinth to rescue me.

So in the end I say that I wandered aimlessly until I ran into Luke and that other demigod, Peter. I tell them that I fought Peter off easily because he was so weak, and that I tricked Luke (though I don't mention how) and then happened to find Daedalus' mark, which allowed me to escape both the demigods and the Labyrinth itself. I say that I surfaced in Manhattan and used the Hephaestus tunnels to get back.

It's clear that they know I'm lying through my teeth, but surprisingly, neither of them calls me on it. Instead, Chiron asks me questions about Peter, and from my answers he determines that the boy is Peter Walters, the son of Nike who disappeared from Camp about a year or so ago. I realize that I recognize the name from one of the status reports. Peter Walters… He was the one that was exploring the Labyrinth and ended up halfway across the country with no idea how he got there. Then he apparently ended up in some rehabilitation program, and his report said that he was mostly stable and that soon he was supposed to "return for duty"…

Gods, no wonder he looked so— so— so broken, I suppose is the right word. Poor kid probably lost his mind down there, and the first thing his superiors did when he was finally on his way to recovering from that horrible place was send him back. If I ever needed any more evidence to prove that joining Kronos's army is wrong, this would be it. You have to be really messed up to do that to someone.

Maybe the gods are bad, but they aren't that bad.

"So," I say finally, after the silence has gone on for too long. "How was Clarisse doing when she Iris-messaged you?"

"As well as can be expected, given the circumstances." Chiron sighs. "I don't know how long she can survive down there on her own, but she insisted that no one be sent in after her, and—"

"I for one quite agree," Mr. D interjects. "The less brats running around this godsforsaken place, the better."

I stand up. I'm boiling over with rage. "What is wrong with you? She'll die if we leave her down there!" Then I suddenly laugh bitterly. "But you don't care. Of course you don't. Why would you, when you don't even care that someone is going completely insane when you could cure them with a snap of your fingers, when you didn't even care that your own daughter was there day after day after day, just waiting, praying to be claimed—"

There are vines wrapped around my neck before I can even blink, and I'm absolutely certain that this time I've gone too far, this time Dionysus really is going to kill me. I don't know how Chiron manages to talk him out of it, but somehow he does. The vines release me and I collapse onto the ground, gasping for air. The god literally blows the door off its hinges and then leaves without looking back. Chiron sighs and says something about going to get some sort of tonic for my throat before he too exits the room, although much more calmly.

And I'm left there on the floor, still shuddering uncontrollably, wondering if the gods really are the lesser of two evils.

Afterwards, it's decided that we'll wait until the Winter Solstice has passed to even think about sending people into the maze to: A, retrieve Ariadne's string; and B, rescue Clarisse, assuming she isn't back by then. I'm worried about Clarisse, but at the same time I'm so relieved that I don't have to go back in there. Like, ever.

When the quest to find the string and the lost daughter of Ares finally comes around, I won't be on it. Chiron promised. He said something about how he's eventually going to recruit Annabeth to do research, and I'm sure he'll probably end up giving the quest to her because there's no way she'll let him give it to anyone else once she knows about it.

I'll try to tell her what it's really like in there, but I know she won't listen to me. She's too stubborn. But maybe she'll actually be able to handle it all, because she's not like me.

She really is a hero, whereas I was just playing pretend.

It's not easy for me to adjust back to life at Camp.

I sleep with my weapon in reach every night, and one morning when Jake decides to jump on me to wake me up, I nearly slit his throat. He learns his lesson after that, but I still haven't forgiven myself.

I keep biting my nails. I never used to bite my nails. Now I can't stop.

Despite my resolution to finally clean my underground room, at first I can't bring myself to go down there because I start hyperventilating halfway down the stairs.

I can't stay in the shower for more than ten minutes or else I have a mini panic attack.

During Capture the Flag, every time I hear a twig snap I'm convinced a monster, or at least a fellow camper on the opposite team, is coming for me.

I can't be around people for long periods of time, not even my brothers. I just wind up either feeling incredibly drained or convincing myself that everyone around me is watching me. (That might just be a sign on a ridiculously large ego, but somehow I doubt it.)

Eventually I manage to tame my extreme paranoia—for the most part. I slowly begin to resemble the girl I was before, but I still find myself a lot more isolated than I used to be, and I still have nightmares that leave me thrashing around, screaming at the top of my lungs.

After the first couple of weeks, I force myself to deal with my fear of my underground room. I clean out the place but for some reason can't find it in me to throw out most of Luke's old junk, so it all ends up in a cardboard box shoved under my desk. I start sleeping down there almost every night so that I won't wake my brothers up all the time.

All in all, life is okay. I'm getting used to not being in life-threatening danger every second of every day. I'm getting used to everything being normal—or as normal as things can be at Camp Half-Blood.

And then one chilly December morning, a flying school bus plunges into the canoe lake and my life is once again thrown into chaos.

Author's Note: Not sure whether Chiron and Dionysus actually knew that a mortal able to see through the mist would be able to find their way around the Labyrinth, but regardless, Dess should've said something. Probably could've saved Percy and co. a lot of trouble.

Reviews are appreciated.