I was mindlessly tending to the fire when the earthquake hit. Sighing, I put my stick down, and shook the others awake.

"Tyson—Tyson's in trouble!" Percy said. "We have to help him!"

"If you haven't noticed, we have an earthquake on our hands." I said dryly.

As they grabbed their packs, we began running. We were almost to the far tunnel when a column next to us groaned and buckled. We kept going as a hundred tons of marble crashed down behind us. We made it to the corridor and turned just in time to see the other columns toppling. A cloud of white dust billowed over us, and we kept running

"You know what?" Annabeth said. "I like this way after all."

It wasn't long before we saw light up ahead, not natural, or the fire kind, but LED.

"There," Rachel said.

We followed her into a stainless steel hallway. Fluorescent lights glowed from the ceiling. The floor was a metal grate.

I winced, the sudden light assaulting my eyes.

"This way," Rachel said, beginning to run. "We're close!"

"This is so wrong!" Annabeth said. "The workshop should be in the oldest section of the maze. This can't—"

She faltered, because we'd arrived at a set of metal double doors. Inscribed in the steel, at eye level, was a large blue Greek ∆.

"We're here," Rachel announced. "Daedalus's workshop."

Annabeth pressed the symbol on the doors and they hissed open.

"So much for ancient architecture," Percy said.

Annabeth scowled. Together we walked inside.

The first thing that struck me was the daylight—blazing sun coming through giant windows. Not the kind of thing you expect in the heart of a dungeon. The workshop was like an artist's studio, with thirty-foot ceilings and industrial lighting, polished stone floors, and workbenches along with windows. A spiral staircase led up to a second-story loft. Half a dozen easels displayed hand-drawn diagrams for buildings and machines that looked like Leonardo da Vinci sketches. Several laptop computers were scattered around on the tables. Glass jars of green oil—Greek fire—lined one shelf. There were inventions, too—weird metal machines I couldn't make sense of. One was a bronze chair with a bunch of electrical wires attached to it, like some kind of torture device. In another corner stood a giant metal egg about the size of a man. There was a grandfather clock that appeared to be made entirely of glass, so you could see all the gears turning. And hanging on the wall were several sets of bronze and silver wings.

"Di immortals," Annabeth muttered. She ran to the nearest easel and looked at the sketch. "He's a genius. Look at the curves on this building!"

"And an artist," Rachel said in amazement. "These wings are amazing!"

Wings, wasn't there a story about him including the wings and some guy called Icarus?

The workshop looked like it had been recently used. The laptops were running their screen savers. A half-eaten blueberry muffin and a coffee cup sat on a workbench.

I froze, a single soul had made its way to us, unnoticed. I swerved around, scowling at the man who looked like he was fifty, but was much, much older.

"Where are we?" Percy wondered out loud.

"Colorado Springs," He said, never once breaking eye contact with me. "The Garden of the Gods."

"You," Annabeth said, after she had recovered from the shock. "What have you done with Daedalus?"

"He is Daedalus, Annabeth." I spat, glaring at the man.

"But he doesn't even look like Daedalus," Percy protested. "I saw him in a dream, and…"

"And he's way overdue for a one way trip to the fields of punishment." I finished, drawing Stormguard.

"You're an automaton." Percy said suddenly, "You made yourself a new body."

"Yes," Daedalus sighed. "You've finally guessed the truth."

"Percy," Annabeth said uneasily, "that's not possible. That—that can't be an automaton."

Daedaluss chuckled. "Do you know what Quintus means, my dear?"

"The fifth, in Latin. But—"

"This is my fifth body." The swordsman held out his forearm. He pressed his elbow and part of his wrist popped open—a rectangular hatch in his skin. Underneath, bronze gears whirred. Wires glowed.

"That's amazing!" Rachel said.

"That's weird," Percy said.

"That's defiling the natural order of things." I added.

"You found a way to transfer your animus into a machine?" Annabeth said. "That's…not natural."

"Oh, I assure you, my dear, it's still me. I'm still very much Daedalus. Our mother, Athena, makes sure I never forget that." He tugged back the collar of his shirt. At the base of his neck the dark shape of a bird was grafted to his skin.

"A murderer's brand," Annabeth said.

"For your nephew, Perdix," Percy said. "The boy you pushed off the tower."

Daedalus's face darkened. "I did not push him. I simply—"

"Made him lose his balance," He interrupted. "Let him die."

Daedalus gazed out the windows at the purple mountains. "I regret what I did, Percy. I was angry and bitter. But I cannot take it back, and Athena never lets me forget. As Perdix died, she turned him into a small bird—a partridge. She branded the bird's shape on my neck as a reminder. No matter what body I take, the brand appears on my skin."

"You really are Daedalus," Percy decided. "But why did you come to the camp? Why spy on us?"

"To see if your camp was worth saving. Luke had given me one story. I preferred to come to my own conclusions."

"So you have talked to Luke."

"Oh, yes. Several times. He is quite persuasive."

"But now you've seen the camp!" Annabeth persisted. "So you know we need your help. You can't let Luke through the maze!"

Daedalus set his sword on the workbench. "The maze is no longer mine to control, Annabeth. I created it, yes. In fact, it is tied to my life force. But I have allowed it to live and grow on its own. That is the price I paid for privacy."

"Privacy from what?"

"The gods," he said. "And death. I have been alive for two millennia, my dear, hiding from death."

"Thanatos is going to be pissed." I said, "You know what happened to Sisyphus, your punishment will make that look like a walk in the park."

"But how can one hide from Hades?" Percy asked. "I mean…Hades has the Furies."

"They are not all knowing Percy," I said, "Sisyphus cheated death before, and would have kept living had Hermes not helped Thanatos. Daedalus out of all people is very capable of doing that."

Daedalus chuckled, "A clever man can hide quite a long time, and I have buried myself very deep. Only my greatest enemy has kept after me, and even him I have thwarted."

"You mean Minos," Percy said.

Daedalus nodded. "He hunts for me relentlessly. Now that he is a judge of the dead, he would like nothing better than for me to come before him so he can punish me for my crimes. After the daughters of Cocalus killed him, Minos's ghost began torturing me in my dreams. He promised that he would hunt me down. I did the only thing I could. I retreated from the world completely. I descended into my Labyrinth. I decided this would be my ultimate accomplishment: I would cheat death."

"And you did," Annabeth marveled, "for two thousand years."

Just then a loud bark echoed from the corridor. I heard the ba-BUMP, baBUMP, ba-BUMP of huge paws, and a hellhound bounded into the workshop.

It then proceeded to do the most absurd thing ever, it licked Percy's face affectionately and leaped onto Daedalus, slobbering him.

"There is my old friend!" Daedalus said, scratching the hellhound behind the ears. "My only companion all these long lonely years."

"You let her save me," Percy said. "That whistle actually worked."

I raised an eyebrow, must have happened before I came on the quest, or when I was unconscious.

Daedalus nodded. "Of course it did, Percy. You have a good heart. And I knew Mrs. O'Leary liked you. I wanted to help you. Perhaps I—I felt guilty, as well."

"Guilty about what?"

"That your quest would be in vain."

"What?" Annabeth said. "But you can still help us. You have to! Give us Ariadne's string so Luke can't get it."

"Yes…the string. I told Luke that the eyes of a clear-sighted mortal are the best guide, but he did not trust me. He was so focused on the idea of a magic item. And the string works. It's not as accurate as your mortal friend here, perhaps. But good enough. Good enough."

"Where is it?" Annabeth said. "With Luke," Daedalus said sadly. "I'm sorry, my dear. But you are several hours too late."

A shiver ran down my spine, an attack at camp was inevitable now.

"Kronos promised me freedom," Daedalus said. "Once Hades is overthrown, he will set me over the Underworld. I will reclaim my son Icarus. I will make things right with poor young Perdix. I will see Minos's soul cast into Tartarus, where it cannot bother me again. And I will no longer have to run from death."

"Kronos will never win." I stated, "He lost the first time, what makes you think he would win now, with the gods stronger, more experienced and larger in numbers."

"Even gods are unhappy about Zeus' rule." Daedalus said, "You do not have as many on your side as you think."

"Fine, let's say some of the gods have defected, but do you have any idea how many people in the underworld are willing to fight? Especially in elysium."

"Hades will not let the living back up." He shook his head in denial.

"Or will he?" I questioned, "I've come to know him a bit these past few months, and if anything he'll do whatever it takes to protect the people he actually cares about."

"Demigods are still mortal, they will die again."

"That's your brilliant idea?" Annabeth yelled, interrupting me before I could answer.. "You're going to let Luke destroy your camp, kill hundreds of demigods, and then attack Olympus? You're going to bring down the entire world so you can get what you want?"

"Your cause is doomed, my dear. I saw that as soon as I began to work at your camp. There is no way you can hold back the might of Kronos."

"That's not true!" she cried.

"I am doing what I must, my dear. The offer was too sweet to refuse. I'm sorry."

Annabeth pushed over an easel. Architectural drawing scattered across the floor. "I used to respect you. You were my hero! You—you built amazing things. You solved problems. Now…I don't know what you are. Children of Athena are supposed to be wise, not just clever. Maybe you are just a machine. You should have died two thousand years ago."

Instead of getting mad, Daedalus hung his head. "You should go warn your camp. Now that Luke has the string—"

Suddenly Mrs. O'Leary pricked up her ears.

"Someone's coming!" Rachel warned.

"Many someones, monsters mostly and a shade." I clarified, summoning my bident.

The doors of the workshop burst open, a dracaenae and two laistrygonians walked in, the shade— a pale bearded king with cold eyes and tendrils of Mist coiling off his robes, walked in behind them.

He fixed his gaze on Daedalus. "There you are, my old friend."

Daedalus's jaw clenched, "What is the meaning of this?"

"Master Luke sends his compliments," the dracaenae said. "He thought you might like to see your old employer Minos."

"This was not part of our agreement," Daedalus said.

"It was indeed not," She said, "But we already have what we want from you, and we have other agreements to honor."

Daedalus paled. "Treachery."

"Get used to it," she said, not noticing the way her shadow rippled. She smiled, "It's been a while since I tasted demigod-ack!"

She was never able to finish her sentence as a blade of darkness bisected her from head to toe.

And with that, all hell broke loose.

The giants came right at Daedalus, but Mrs. O'Leary leaped to his defense, while the spirit of Minos wailed, "Kill the inventor! Kill him!"

Rachel grabbed the wings off the wall, for some reason, and Percy and Annabeth engaged the other giant.

In between them and Daedalus, the two giants were too occupied to stop me.

"Minos, you know as well as I how my father despises traitors." I said calmly, walking over to him, my spear held back while my sword was pointed at him.

Minos scowled, "Foolish boy, Lord Hades does not support Olympus."

"True," I nodded thoughtfully, "But he doesn't support the Titans either, I mean what sort of madman supports the guy who swallowed him whole?"

"He shall support us soon enough," Minos glowered. "To me!" he cried. "Spirits of the dead!" He raised his ghostly hands and the air began to hum.

Spirits began to appear around Minos—shimmering forms that slowly multiplied, solidifying into Cretan soldiers.

I inhaled, and bellowed, "In the name of Hades! Shades, I deem you unworthy of rebirth, and cast you into the pits of Tartarus!"

Of course, I couldn't actually cast them into Tartarus, simply return them from whence they came, but Minos didn't need to know that.

The dead king looked around fearfully, "What are you doing?! Attack him!"

But the shades were already gone.

"Minos, I assume you know the essence absorbing properties of stygian iron?" I said, reversing my grip on my bident.

Minos looked confused, "Yes?"

I smiled, "Did you know it can absorb souls as well?"

Minos paled, if ghosts even could, and opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat when my lance pinned him to the steel door, piercing his torso.

"P-please have m-mercy, prince." He begged, understandably so, no one in their right mind wanted complete annihilation.

"You're a disgrace to the judges." I stated, swinging stormguard and decapitating the shade. His head absorbed in my blade while the rest of his body found a new home in my bident.

When I turned back, the others were still struggling with the giants, and I could sense dozens more approaching.

Cursing under my breath, I shot a gout of hellfire at the giant fighting Percy and Annabeth, not enough to take it down, but enough to take it's attention away. I winced when the grip of the wreath tightened even further.

"Come on, we need to get out of here!" I yelled, pulling Percy to his feet.

"We have to help Daedalus!" he said.

I scowled, "He deserves what's coming, besides there are more monsters coming our way."

He looked like he wanted to protest, but relented.

"Come here!" Rachel yelled, having fit herself with one of the wings.

In seconds, Percy, Annabeth, Rachel, and I had fitted ourselves with coppery wings. Already I could feel myself being lifted by the wind coming through the window. Greek fire was burning the tables and furniture, spreading up the circular stairs.

"Daedalus!" Percy yelled. "Come on!"

"Do me a favor, just die here. I don't want to hunt you down later." I said, not once batting an eye to how battered he looked.

"I won't leave Mrs. O'Leary!" he said. "Go!"

And one by one, we began jumping out.

"Flying isn't one of my strengths." I muttered, jumping right before Percy.

I spread my arms, like I had seen people do while skydiving. The wings stretched, slowing my fall. I flapped once, soaring higher.

Ah yes, this was Icarus' story, wasn't it?

"Spread your arms! Keep them extended." Annabeth yelled at Percy, who had fallen dangerously low.

Thankfully, he did as she said, and immediately stopped plummeting, and quickly flapped up to us, yelling in exhilaration.

Behind us, smoke billowed from the windows of Daedalus's workshop.

As Percy flapped up to me, he asked, "What was that about? You looked like you were out for blood."

"Daedalus has evaded death long enough, my father was pretty pissed at him for that."

"And he asked you to make sure he dies?" Percy guessed.

"Exactly." I nodded.

"Land!" Annabeth yelled. "These wings won't last forever."

"How long?" Rachel asked.

"I don't want to find out!" Annabeth said.

"I mean living in the underworld isn't that bad, it's just the 'unable to return to the surface' bit that's worrying." I said, in case we fell to our deaths.

"We're not dying." Annabeth said.

"Just saying, I could probably book you guys a place in the castle."

"Valen, please shut up."

We swooped down toward the Garden of the Gods and soared across the valley, over a road, and landed on the terrace of the visitor center. It was late afternoon and the place looked pretty empty, but we ripped off our wings as quickly as we could. Looking at them, I could see Annabeth was right. The self-adhesive seals that bound the wings to our backs were already melting, and we were shedding bronze feathers. It seemed a shame, but we couldn't fix them, and couldn't leave them around for the mortals, so we stuffed the wings in trash bins outside the cafeteria.

Although, wasn't that effectively the same thing?

Discreetly I sent an ember of hellfire into the dustbin, melting the wings to a puddle.

Percy used the tourist binocular camera to look up at the hill where Daedalus's workshop had been, but it had vanished. No more smoke. No broken windows. Just the side of a hill.

"The workshop moved," Annabeth guessed. "There's no telling where."

"So what do we do now?" he asked. "How do we get back in the maze?"

Annabeth gazed at the summit of Pikes Peak in the distance. "Maybe we can't. If Daedalus died…he said his life force was tied into the Labyrinth. The whole thing might've been destroyed. Maybe that will stop Luke's invasion."

I shook my head, "He's not dead yet."

My words were confirmation enough, I had explained how this ability worked last time.

"We have to get into town," Annabeth decided. "Our chances will be better of finding an entrance to the Labyrinth. We have to make it back to camp before Luke and his army."

"We could just take a plane," Rachel said.

Percy shuddered, "I don't fly."

"I prefer solid land thanks." I said, being in an airplane would leave me vulnerable, heck monsters could do a kamikaze and cause the plane itself to crash.

"But you just did."

"That was low flying," Percy said, "and even that's risky. Flying up really high—that's Zeus's territory. I can't do it. Besides, we don't even have time for a flight. The labyrinth is the quickest way back."

"So we need a car to take us into the city," Annabeth said.

Rachel looked down into the parking lot. She grimaced, as if she were about to do something she regretted. "I'll take care of it."

"How?" Annabeth asked.

"Just trust me."

Annabeth looked uneasy, but she nodded. "Okay, I'm going to buy a prism in the gift shop, try to make a rainbow, and send an Iris-message to camp."

"I'll stay here, if you don't mind." I said.

"I'll stick with Rachel, then," Percy said. "Meet you guys in the parking lot."

As soon as they were out of sight, I crumpled down, exhaustion seeped into my bones. My wreath had finally loosened up, and I sighed in relief. I had asked father to put that feature in it, so that it could stop me from using hellfire too much.

It was nothing short of a miracle I was still conscious after all the times I used it.

I heard footsteps coming closer and stood up, schooling my features and wiping the sweat off my forehead.

"I talked to Chiron," Annabeth said. "They're doing their best to prepare for battle, but he still wants us back. They're going to need every hero they can get. Did we find a ride?"

"The driver's ready when we are," Rachel said.

Two men were arguing when we got there. "I'm sorry, sir. Emergency. I've ordered another car for you." The, assumed, driver spoke to his client.

"Come on," Rachel said. She led us to the car and got in without even looking at the flustered guy who'd rented it. A minute later we were cruising down the road. The seats were leather. There was plenty of legroom. The backseat had flat-panel TVs built into the headrests and a mini-fridge stocked with bottled water, sodas, and snacks.

"Someone could live here for their entire life comfortably." I muttered, popping a can of coke.

"Where to, Miss Dare?" the driver asked.

"I'm not sure yet, Robert," she said. "We just need to drive through town and, uh, look around."

"Whatever you say, miss."

I raised an eyebrow at the exchange, her personal chauffeur perhaps?

"Do you know this guy?" Percy asked, voicing my thoughts.

"No."

"But he dropped everything to help you. Why?"

"Just keep your eyes peeled," she said. "Help me look."

I narrowed my eyes at her, but it was not my place to pry.

We drove through Colorado Springs for about half an hour and saw nothing that Rachel considered a possible Labyrinth entrance. Even with my earth sense, it was difficult finding an opening.

After about an hour we decided to head north toward Denver, thinking that maybe a bigger city would be more likely to have a Labyrinth entrance, but we were all getting nervous. We were losing time.

Then right as we were leaving Colorado Springs, Rachel sat bolt upright. "Get off the highway!"

The driver glanced back. "Miss?"

"I saw something, I think. Get off here."

The driver swerved across traffic and took the exit.

"What did you see?" Percy asked.

There wasn't anything around except hills, grassland, and some scattered farm buildings. Rachel had the driver turn down this unpromising dirt road. We drove by a sign too fast for me to read it, but Rachel said, "Western Museum of Mining & Industry."

For a museum, it didn't look like much—a little house like an oldfashioned railroad station, some drills and pumps and old steam shovels on display outside.

"There." Rachel pointed to a hole in the side of a nearby hill—a tunnel that was boarded up and chained. "An old mine entrance."

"A door to the Labyrinth?" Annabeth asked. "How can you be sure?"

"Well, look at it!" Rachel said. "I mean…I can see it, okay?"

She thanked the driver and we all got out. He didn't even ask for payment. "Are you sure you'll be all right, Miss Dare? I'd be happy to call your—"

"No!" Rachel said. "No, really. Thanks, Robert. But we're fine."

The museum seemed to be closed, so nobody bothered us as we climbed the hill to the mine shaft. When we got to the entrance, I saw the mark of Daedalus engraved on the padlock. Percy touched the padlock, and the chains fell away. We kicked down a few boards and walked inside.

Back to the semi-sentient demigod killing maze we go.

The dirt tunnels turned to stone. They wound around and split off and tried to confuse us, but Rachel had no trouble guiding us.

To my surprise, Rachel and Annabeth started up a conversation as we walked. Annabeth asked her more about her background, but Rachel was evasive, so they started talking about architecture. Turns out that Rachel knew something about it from studying art. They talked about different facades on buildings around New York, wasn't really my topics of interest so I hung back and walked next to Percy in comfortable silence.

"So," Percy began, "Why were you unwilling to use your fire in the arena?"

I grimaced, "Let's just say that power comes with a cost and leave it at that."

"What kind of cost?"

"The kind that will kill me if I use it too much."

Percy stumbled a step, "Say what now?"

I shrugged, "Now you know."

Before he could ask more questions, we walked into the girls, who had stopped in front of us.

We'd come to a crossroads. The tunnel continued straight ahead, but a side tunnel split off to the right—a circular shaft carved from volcanic rock.

"What is it?" Percy asked.

Rachel stared down the dark tunnel silently.

"Is it that way?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Rachel said nervously. "Not at all."

"Why are we stopping then?" Percy asked.

I froze as a familiar scent wafted up to my nose. Cursing under my breath, I unsheathed stormguard. "Mount Othrys,"

"There's something evil down that tunnel," Rachel agreed. "Something very powerful."

"It reeks of death," I added, "we'd best not engage."

Annabeth and Percy exchanged glances. "Luke's entrance," she guessed. "The one to Mount Othrys—the Titans' palace."

"I have to check it out," he said.

"Percy, no."

"Did you not hear what I said?" I snapped, "Going there is a death sentence."

"Luke could be right here," he argued. "Or…or Kronos. I have to find out what's going on."

Annabeth hesitated. "Then we'll all go."

"All the more reason not to go, if the titan lord's in there, we're not coming back alive."

He shook his head, "No, I have to go alone. It's too dangerous. If they got hold of Rachel, Kronos could use her. You stay here and guard her."

"Percy, don't," Rachel said. "Don't go up there alone."

"I'll be quick," he promised. "I won't do anything stupid."

Annabeth took her Yankees cap out of her pocket. "At least take this. And be careful."

"Thanks."

I sighed, "I'm going with you then, if only to make for a quick getaway."

He smiled nervously, "I was hoping you'd say that."

He put on the hat, his form disappearing from my vision, and I applied the dark mist around me.

Before we even got to the exit I heard voices: the growling, barking sounds of some kind og monster.

"Telekhines." Percy whispered, more to himself than to me.

"At least we salvaged the blade," one said. "The master will still reward us."

"Yes! Yes!" a second shrieked. "Rewards beyond measure!"

Another voice, this one more human, said: "Um, yeah, well that's great. Now, if you're done with me—"

"No, half-blood!" another said. "You must help us make the presentation. It is a great honor!"

"Gee, thanks," the half-blood said.

We crept toward the end of the tunnel, and a blast of cold air hit me as we emerged. We were standing near the top of Mount Tam. The Pacific Ocean spread out below, gray under a cloudy sky. About twenty feet downhill, two telekhines were placing something on a big rock—something long and thin and wrapped in a black cloth. The half-blood was helping them open it.

"Careful, fool," the telekhine scolded. "One touch, and the blade will sever your soul from your body."

He swallowed nervously. "Maybe I'll let you unwrap it, then."

"There!" the telekhine said. Reverently, he lifted the weapon, and my blood turned to ice. It was a scythe—a six foot-long blade curved like a crescent moon, with a wooden handle wrapped in leather. The blade glinted two different colors— steel and bronze. It was the weapon of Kronos, the one he'd used to slice up his father, Ouranos, before the gods had taken it away from him and cut Kronos to pieces, casting him into Tartarus. Now the weapon was re-forged.

"We must sanctify it in blood," the telekhine said. "Then you, half-blood, shall help present it when the lord awakes."

I felt Percy's soul move, the presence bolting towards the mountain peak, where a pitch black fortress stood.

Cursing underneath my breath, I followed, doing my best to track his soul.

We dashed through a dark foyer and into the main hall. The floor shined like a mahogany piano—pure black and yet full of light. Black marble statues lined the walls. I didn't recognize the faces, but I knew I was looking at images of the Titans who'd ruled before the gods. At the end of the room, between two bronze braziers, was a dais. And on the dais, the golden sarcophagus.

The room was silent except for the crackle of the fires. No guards. Nothing. It was too easy.

Percy began approaching the sarcophagus slowly, as if afraid to make any sudden movements.

The sarcophagus was about ten feet long, much too big for a human. It was carved with elaborate scenes of death and destruction, pictures of the gods being trodden under chariots, temples and famous world landmarks being smashed and burned. The whole coffin gave off an aura of extreme cold, like I was walking into a freezer.

I looked around vigilantly for any signs of danger, a single scrape of movement would alert me. I heard footsteps, and voicing approaching. Behind me the lid of the coffin fall with a huge WHOOOOM!

Backtracking my way to Percy I glanced behind at the sarcophagus, and realized why he had gone completely still. Inside lay the body of Luke Castellan, the wayward son of Hermes with a whole over his heart.

My gaze flickered back to the foyer, where the telekhines had appeared, along with the demigod.

"Percy," I whispered as quietly as I could, "We need to move."

"What has happened!" one of the demons screamed when he saw the moved, and I followed him behind a column.

"Careful!" the other demon warned. "Perhaps he stirs. We must present the gifts now. Immediately!"

The two telekhines shuffled forward and knelt, holding up the scythe on its wrapping cloth. "My lord," one said. "Your symbol of power is remade."

Silence. Nothing happened in the coffin.

"You fool," the other telekhine muttered. "He requires the half-blood first."

The demigod stepped back. "Whoa, what do you mean, he requires me?"

"Don't be a coward!" the first telekhine hissed. "He does not require your death. Only your allegiance. Pledge him your service. Renounce the gods. That is all."

"No!" Percy yelled stupidly, charging into the room and becoming visible. "Ethan, don't!"

I sighed, dispelling the dark shroud over me, unsheathing Stormguard as I approached from behind the column as well.

"Trespassers!" The telekhines bared their seal teeth. "The master will deal with you two soon enough. Hurry, boy!"

"Ethan," he pleaded, "don't listen to them. Help me destroy it."

The demigod, Ethan, turned toward him, his eye patch blending in with the shadows on his face. His expression was something like pity. "I told you not to spare me, Percy. 'An eye for an eye.' You ever hear that saying? I learned what it means the hard way—when I discovered my godly parent. I'm the child of Nemesis, Goddess of Revenge. And this is what I was made to do."

He turned toward the dais. "I renounce the gods! What have they ever done for me? I will see them destroyed. I will serve Kronos."

The building rumbled. A wisp of blue light rose from the floor at Ethan Nakamura's feet. It drifted toward the coffin and began to shimmer, like a cloud of pure energy. Then it descended on the sarcophagus.

A chill ran down my spine and Luke sat bolt upright. His eyes opened, and they were no longer blue. They were golden, the same color as the coffin. The hole in his chest was gone. He was complete. He leaped out of the coffin with ease, and where his feet touched the floor, the marble froze like craters of ice.

He looked at Ethan and the telekhines, as if he were a newborn baby, not sure what he was seeing. Then he looked at us, and a smile of recognition crept across his mouth.

"This body has been well prepared." His voice was like a razor blade. Underneath his voice was another, more horrible sound—an ancient, cold sound like metal scraping against rock. "Don't you think so, Percy Jackson?"

Percy didn't answer.

Kronos threw back his head and laughed. The scar on his face rippled. "Luke feared you," the Titan's voice said. "His jealously and hatred have been powerful tools. It has kept him obedient. For that I thank you."

Ethan collapsed in terror. He covered his face with his hands. The telekhines trembled, holding up the scythe.

Then the titan lord turned to me, "Ah, there you are, son of the north. You would have made the perfect vessel, but alas you were not swayed, not even by Atlas."

"So I was right." I whispered quietly, "My mother was a nordic demigod. That's why she's not in the underworld."

Then, Percy lunged, thrusting his blade straight at his chest, but his skin deflected the blow like he was made of pure steel. He looked at him with amusement. Then he flicked his hand, and he flew across the room.

Kronos grasped the handle of his scythe. "Ah…much better," he said. "Backbiter, Luke called it. An appropriate name. now that it is re-forged completely, it shall indeed bite back."

"What have you done to Luke?" Percy groaned, and I warped to him, helping him up.

Kronos raised his scythe. "He serves me with his whole being, as I require. The difference is, he feared you, Percy Jackson. I do not."

He ran, understandably so. We could not hope to beat the titan lord like this.

But it was like he was running through tar, time had slowed down.

"Run, little hero," he laughed. "Run!"

I tried shadow travelling, but even that was slowed, it was like I was sinking through quicksand, not my own shadow. Strange thing was, I could move my ankles freely enough. Seemed his influence didn't extend to the shadow realm.

He approached leisurely, swinging his scythe as if he were enjoying the feel of having it in his hands again. No weapon in the world could stop him. No amount of celestial bronze or stygian iron or imperial gold.

He was almost at us when someone yelled, "PERCY!"

It was Rachel. And a blue blur sped through the air, hitting kronos in the eye.

"Ow!" he yelled, losing concentration and I fell fully to the shadows. I had one chance, I had to make it count.

I shot up from under him, my hands scorching with black flames. The wreath around my head tightening and suddenly warm.

Clasping my hands around his neck, I sent nearly my entire supply of magic into the flames, blanketing his entire body with the stuff. Strangely, I noticed, it didn't seem to reach his shoulder. But I had no time to ponder, as the titan lord screamed in agony, I warped back to my friends, the wreath around my head now unbelievably tight and scorching my scalp.

And then, I passed out.