"We're lost," Mari said.
"We're not lost." Annabeth huffed. "We're just... a little disoriented."
"That means lost," Percy told her.
There were in a corridor that looked like it used to transport sewage. Exposed red-brick walls, with vents blocked by cold iron-bars along regular intervals. Mari imagined that the vents would normally be connected to pipes, but in the labyrinth, they just led to an empty, dark void. It reminded Mari of the labyrinth entrance she'd nearly stumbled into with Adela, which didn't give Mari a whole lot of confidence about her future amongst the living. The floor was covered with damp iron grates, which, no matter how careful the five of them were, made gods-awful clanging sounds with every step, which in this place was practically a signal flare to any hungry monsters prowling around nearby.
"I said we're not lost!" Annabeth narrowed her eyes. "Look, we're fine. If we just keep one hand on the left wall and follow it, we should be able to find our way out by reversing course."
Naturally, the second the words had left Annabeth's mouth, the left hand wall disappeared, replaced by eight tunnels, each leading in a different direction.
"Oh, yeah, forgot to mention." Mari's voice was dispassionate. "It does that."
"Uh, which way did we come in?" Nervous bleats bled into Grover's voice.
"Just turn around." Annabeth sounded nervous. Each of them turned towards a different tunnel. Mari didn't bother, because if she remembered how the labyrinth worked correctly then none of them led to the way out, and at least three of them led to certain peril. Mari wondered what would happen if someone tried to bring a GPS into this place.
"Left walls are mean." Tyson frowned. "Which way now?"
Annabeth swept her flashlight across the tunnels and turned towards Mari. "What do you think?"
Mari closed her eyes, expanded the mist around her and let her instincts seep into it, a feeling not unlike skin melting off her bones. She cringed.
"It tickles," Tyson said with a giggle. Mari supposed as a monster, Tyson would've had more of a sense for the mist. She was glad someone was enjoying this, at least.
"Let her concentrate," Annabeth told him.
"T-that way." Mari pointed towards a tunnel to the very left. "It might be a bit of a tight fit. Sorry."
She'd felt the passage get smaller with the mist, like paper rolled into a cone. Annabeth went in first. It turned out, 'a bit of a tight fit' was the understatement of multiple millennia. Mari was fine, being the smallest of the lot of them, and Annabeth, Percy and Grover just had to duck their heads a little. Poor Tyson had no choice but to crawl on his knees. "I don't think it should be that much longer," Mari assured him. "I'm sorry about this."
"It's okay!" Tyson looked up to smile at her but bumped his head. "It's like the coral climbing frame, in Daddy's palace."
"Uh..." Mari wasn't sure what to say to that. "Sure."
Finally, when even Mari was having to bend a little to avoid banging her head on the ceiling, the corridor opened up. They all tumbled out, and Mari sighed, relieved to be in free space again. Then she remembered that the 'free space' in question was an evil murder maze, and her relief was gone. Grover, who had been hyperventilating all the way along the corridor (not that Mari blamed him) shook his head. "I can't stand this anymore. Why would Pan want to be down here?" He whimpered. "This is the opposite of the wild!"
"Woah, guys, look at this room," Percy whispered.
The entire room was one huge mosaic. It was old and cracked in places, but still vivid. It was... well, it was nothing short of beautiful. The walls depicted the Olympians, some feasting on ambrosia and others soaring above. Mari dragged her eyes across the tiles, and spotted a depiction of her father. Apollo was high in the sky, playing the lyre for the rest of the gods to hear. There was a crack in the centre of his face (which he definitely wouldn't appreciate if he ever saw this mosaic), so she couldn't make out his full expression but he was definitely smiling. Next to him was a Satyr, bowing with pan pipes in his left hand. "That's..."
"Pan," Grover breathed, coming up next to her. "This could be a sign! If we can find a way to break through the tiles, Pan might be behind there! Or, or he could have left something there, a clue to his location." Grover began knocking along the walls, frowning when there was no response. "Do you think I'm doing something wrong? Should I try knocking with my reed pipes? Do you think this is working at all?"
"No. I think you punched a wall," Mari told him. "And you should really stop, because the last thing we need is to antagonise this damn maze."
For reasons entirely beyond Mari's comprehension, both Percy and Grover seemed to find something she'd said funny. Mari looked at the tapestry again. Lee had made them all learn the old stories about their father, so Mari actually recognised something in this one. "I think it's supposed to be an interpretation of the music contest between my father and Pan. My Dad won, obviously, but one of the judges, Midas, thought it would be funny to declare that he thought Pan should win, instead. My Dad got angry and cursed Midas to live the rest of his life with a pair of donkey ears. I, um." Mari stopped when she realised she'd been rambling. "I don't think this is directly depicting that, but I think it's where the artist got their inspiration."
"What is this place?" Percy stared at a three-tiered fountain with mosaic dolphins around the rim. "It looks-"
"Roman." Annabeth nodded. "These mosaics are about two thousand years old."
"They're beautiful," Mari whispered. She'd been to the the Roman Baths once on a school trip when she was seven. She hadn't liked it very much. She'd thought they were going to be allowed to swim, but apparently the bacteria in the water were toxic - lame. This was so much better.
"But how can they be Roman?" Percy asked.
"The labyrinth is a patchwork," Annabeth said. "I told you, it's always expanding, adding pieces. It's the only work of architecture that grows by itself."
"You make it sound like it's alive." Percy made a face.
"Oh, it very much is." Mari was grim.
The tunnel ahead of them creaked and groaned, as if taking a breath, and Grover jumped back from where he'd been knocking on the wall again. "Let's not talk about it being alive. Please?" He whimpered at the wall as if it was about to grow fangs and bite his head off. The labyrinth was a lot subtler than that.
"Alright," Annabeth agreed. "Let's move forward."
They turned their torches on and made their way down the hall the creaks had come from, following Annabeth's assumption that the older the architecture, the closer they were to Daedalus's workshop. Annabeth suspected that it would be at the centre of the labyrinth, the oldest part. Mari wasn't sure if she was right about that, since last time she'd been in the labyrinth, she'd been a little too busy to carbon-date the corridors, but it seemed like a smart plan. Unfortunately, things didn't exactly work that way. After gods knew how many minutes spent wandering around, the architecture had gone from Ancient Roman to Art Deco and they still weren't any closer to Daedalus's workshop.
"I'm thinking this is not Roman," Percy muttered.
"Yeah, no ship, squidward," Mari told him.
"Squidward?" Percy asked. "Ship?"
"Naomi Solace told me to try and cut back the swearing." Mari shrugged. "And besides, I'm not saying that shi...p in front of Tyson."
It was nice to have a somewhat normal conversation, but the pleasant distraction didn't last very long. Pretty soon, Annabeth, who was taking the lead both figuratively and literally, stopped, frozen.
They'd found a skeleton.
Whoever the person was, they'd worked as a milkman. Mari could tell that from the ruins of the uniform and the old crate of milk at their boney feet. The milk had clearly gone off, turning a congealed yellow colour and filling the room with a disgusting stench. The skeleton's finger-bones were scraped against the brick wall. The skull hung open. Whoever this person was, they'd died trying to claw their way out, screaming for help that would never come. Mari shuddered.
"What's he doing here?" Percy asked.
"Some people wander in by mistake," Annabeth explained. "Some come exploring on purpose and never make it back. A long time ago, the Cretans sent people in here as human sacrifices."
"I think Clarisse and I found a body once, too." Mari wrinkled her nose at the memory. "I didn't realise what it was at the time. Clarisse had covered my eyes. It was... fresher. Smelled awful, much worse than this. I'd be surprised if this is the last body we see."
"He's been down here a long time." Grover gulped, pointing to the heavy layer of dust on the rotten milk bottles.
"Only bones," Tyson told him. "Don't worry, goat boy. The milkman is dead."
Tyson, gods bless him, was only trying to help, but his words seemed to have the opposite effect. "The milkman doesn't bother me," Grover whimpered, wringing his hands in distress. "It's the smell. Monsters. Can't you smell them?"
"Lots of monsters." Tyson nodded. "But underground always smells like that. Monsters and dead milk people."
That's awfully specific, Mari thought.
"Oh, good," Grover answered. "I thought maybe I was wrong."
"We have to get deeper into the maze." Annabeth stared at the corridor ahead, frowning. "There has to be a way to the centre. Come on."
They followed her through what seemed like endless corridors, each different from the last. One had Ancient Greek columns. The next was full of dusty paintings of old people in heavy gowns. They tiptoed down another passage that looked like something out of Balmoral, which Mari had seen on tv a few times. Then came a walkway which looked like a station from the London Underground. Finally, just when it seemed that they were finally getting somewhere, they arrived back at the Roman mosaic room.
Mari felt like screaming. This time, though, there wouldn't be any point - Clarisse wasn't there to scream back. Annabeth paced across the room with a frustrated expression. Mari huffed and settled on the floor, right underneath the mosaic of her father.
She'd been planning on taking a sip of water, and maybe sharing some dried fruit around, but she didn't get the chance. A strange rushing sensation went through the air above her, and Mari looked up just in time to see a face pop through the mosaic. No, that wasn't right. It was two faces, merged together.
Mari scrambled away from the wall, barely managing to grab her backpack and avoid the pair of legs that were now materialising through the wall. Tyson helped her up, and and Mari looked back at the faces. Their owner looked like some kind of fancy butler, off an old tv show. He had a perfectly ironed black and white suit and even a top hat. He would have looked perfectly normal if not for the fact that his head was twice as wide as it should be, with two faces instead of one. Two ears, two sideburns; double everything else. This meant that he needed a really wide top hat. Both faces turned to Annabeth, expectation in the gaze of all four eyes.
"Well, Annabeth?" The left face sneered. "Hurry up!"
"Don't mind him," the right face told them. "He's terribly rude. Right this way, miss."
"Uh..." Annabeth's jaw fell open, probably in confusion. "I don't..."
"That funny man has two faces." Tyson pointed his finger at the not-a-butler. Mari lowered Tyson's hand down, shaking her head at him but it was too late.
"That 'funny man' has ears, you know!" The left face glared at Tyson before turning back to Annabeth. "Now, come along, Miss."
"No, no," the right face said. "This way, miss. Talk to me, please."
"What's going..." Percy trailed off as two huge wooden doors appeared on each side of the not-a-butler, each with its own shiny iron padlock. Mari felt a flicker of annoyance - the door had completely destroyed the part of the mosaic showing her father, shattering tiles everywhere, and whether Mari was pleased with her dad at the moment or not, destroying art like that wasn't cool. The not-a-butler tossed a silver key between his right and left hand, and Mari realised what was going on. This guy wanted Annabeth to choose between the two doors.
Mari looked back to see the way they'd come, but it was gone, replaced by yet more mosaics.
"Where do the doors lead?" Annabeth asked.
"One probably leads the way you wish to go." The right face smiled. "The other, well, that'll be to certain death."
"I- I know who you are," Annabeth said.
"Oh, you're a smart one!" The left face sneered. Coming from him, it didn't sound like a compliment. "But do you know which way to choose? I don't have all day."
Annabeth turned towards Mari. "Can you-"
"No!" The not-a-butler produced a bronze call bell from out of nowhere, throwing it at Mari's head. Mari ducked, and it went right at Tyson, who caught it with both hands, frowning as he dinged it. "Oooooh!" He smiled. "Sounds pretty!"
"You're in charge now, my dear." The right face smiled at Annabeth. "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."
"So, no pressure, then," Mari muttered. Percy kicked her in the foot.
"No..." Annabeth gulped. "I don't-"
"Leave her alone," Percy said. "Who are you, anyway?"
"I'm your best friend," said the right face.
"I'm your worst enemy," said the left.
"I'm Janus," both voices said together. "God of doorways. Beginnings. Endings. Choices."
But that made zero sense whatsoever. Janus was a Roman god. Mari didn't know a whole lot about Roman mythology, only that the Romans changed the names of all the gods except her father, but she did know for a fact that Roman gods didn't exist. She was about to tell 'Janus' to knock it off and tell them who he really was, when the two-faced 'roman god' turned towards Percy. "I'll see you soon enough, Perseus Jackson," the right face said. "But for now it's Annabeth's turn. Such fun!"
"Shup up!" the left face snapped. "This is serious! One bad choice could ruin your whole life. It can kill you and all your friends. Choose!"
"Don't do it." Percy warned.
"I'm afraid she has to." The right face sounded awfully cheerful.
Annabeth glanced between the two faces, looking absolutely stricken. "I- I choose-"
Before she could finish, a bright light filled the room. Mari slapped a hand over her eyes. She assumed the others had looked away too, because when she removed it, they were still standing there and nobody had been incinerated. But there was someone new in the room.
Something about the newcomer instantly set Mari on edge. She had long, dark hair, threaded with golden ribbons, not unlike Circe. She was wearing a plain white chiton and a cape of peacock feathers. Whoever this woman was, she was a lot more powerful than fake-Janus, and Mari did not want to get on her bad side.
"Janus." The woman's voice was sickly-sweet. "Are we causing trouble again?"
So this guy's name actually was Janus. Or maybe whoever this woman was - Mari had definitely seen her somewhere before - she was just humouring him.
"No!" fake-Janus stammered. "No, milady!"
"Yes!" the right face said.
"Shut up!" the left one snarled.
"Excuse me?!" The woman's face seemed to get sharper somehow. Mari supressed a shudder.
"N-not you, milady!" fake-Janus told her. "I was talking to myself."
"I see." The woman stared at fake-Janus like he was a particularly rotten-smelling poop on the bottom of her golden sandals. "You know very well that 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 one scolded.
"Because French doors are nice." The left face broke into a wistful smile. "Lots of natural light."
"Shut. Up!" the right face wailed again. "Not you, milady! Of course I'll leave. I was just having a bit of fun. Doing my job. Offering choices."
Oh my gods, goawaynus, Mari thought.
"Causing indecision." The woman glared. "Now begone!"
"Party pooper," the left face muttered.
Fake-Janus turned his silver key in mid-air and disappeared, leaving behind the tinny sound of a call-bell ringing. The woman turned towards them and smiled. Mari squashed down the impulse to hide behind Annabeth.
"You must be hungry," she said. "Sit with me and talk."
She waved her hand. Clear, fresh water started to flow from the old fountain and a table appeared out of nowhere, covered with plates of finger sandwiches and fancy-looking drinks in tall glasses. There was even a pitcher of lemonade.
"Who are you?" Percy asked.
"I am Hera." The woman smiled. "Queen of Olympus."
Mari wasn't sure what she'd expected from the queen of the gods. Threats, maybe a cheeky bit of murder, or at the very least some level of maiming. Hera hated demigods, everyone knew that. In all the old stories, Hera spent half her time angry at Zeus for cheating on her and the other half plotting some very misplaced revenge on his resultant children. She helped out Jason with the Argonauts, but he wasn't even a demigod so he didn't count. She was absolutely ruthless. Mari was fairly sure that if Hera ever figured out her priorities and went for the source of all her problems, then Zeus didn't stand a bloody chance in Hades, but that didn't seem like it was going to happen any time soon.
Anyway, whatever Mari had been anticipating, being served sandwiches and drinks was not it. And di immortales, were those Jaffa Cakes? Vegan Jaffa Cakes? Okay, maybe Hera wasn't so bad.
"Sweet children, how I've missed you," Mari whispered to the circles of chocolate-y orange goodness.
Hera laughed. "I'm glad you like them, Marion. Grover, dear." She smiled at the Satyr. "Use your napkin. Don't eat it."
"Yes, Ma'am." Grover nodded through the napkin.
"Tyson, you're wasting away." Hera frowned. "Would you like another peanut butter sandwich?"
"Yes, nice lady." Tyson made a noise like he was stifling a belch. Mari patted his shoulder.
"Queen Hera," Annabeth said. "I can't believe it. What are you doing in the Labyrinth?"
Hera waved a hand again and the dirt on Annabeth's face vanished. Her hair was drawn into a pretty, poofy pile of curls on top of her head, tied with a silver ribbon. "I came to see you, naturally," the goddess said.
Mari paused, Jaffa Cake halfway towards her mouth. Across the table, Percy and Grover were exchanging worried glances. Usually, when a god 'personally visited' a demigod, they either wanted something or they wanted to 'punish' that demigod for something. Neither of those would be good on an average day, but especially not now. Not wanting to agitate Hera, Mari took another bite of her Jaffa Cake and reached for her glass of lemonade. Normally she liked fizzy things, bit the drink tasted bitter in her mouth.
"I didn't think-" Annabeth faltered. "Well, I didn't think you liked heroes."
Hera gave Annabeth an indulgent smile, but something about it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Because of that little spat I had with Herakles? Honestly, I got so much bad press because of one little disagreement."
Mari frowned. Wasn't it technically twelve disagreements? Oh, well. It was Herakles, after all. Percy had told her everything he'd done to Zoë Nightshade, so he definitely deserved it.
"Didn't you try to kill him, like, a lot of times?" Annabeth asked.
Hera waved a dismissive hand. "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 counselling 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?" Percy asked.
Hera's gaze turned sharp again, the same way it had when she looked at fake-Janus. Mari bristled. Thalia wasn't an incident. And Percy had just asked a simple question. This was what Mari meant by the whole 'misplaced revenge' thing. Mari decided then and there that yummy vegan Jaffa Cakes or not, Hera had serious issues.
"Percy Jackson, isn't it?" Hera asked, as if she didn't already know, which was a bunch of crap. "One of Poseidon's... children. As I recall, I voted to let you live at the winter solstice. I hope I voted correctly."
Oh, that was it. Hera didn't just have issues, she was the issue.
Hera turned back to Annabeth, the fake indulgent smile back in full force. "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."
"But that can't have been Janus." Mari frowned. "Uh, sorry, that can't have been Janus, Queen Hera. Janus is a Roman god, right? They don't exist."
Hera narrowed her eyes at Mari for a second, like she was trying to figure out a particularly inconvenient maths problem. Mari's brain went fuzzy. She blinked, and Hera was looking at Annabeth again. Hadn't Mari asked Hera something? No, no, she hadn't. There was nothing to ask, after all. If she had, then the others would tell her, but nobody seemed to think anything was particularly out of order.
"Why was he here?" Annabeth asked. "He was driving me crazy."
"Trying to." Hera nodded, an air of smug nonchalance about her. "You must understand. The minor gods like Ja...s have always been frustrated by their small parts to play in the universe. Some, I fear, have little love for Olympus, and could easily be swayed to support the side of my father."
"Your father?" Percy asked. "Oh. Right."
Mari facepalmed.
"We must watch the minor gods." Hera said. "Janu..." Mari's mind got fuzzy again and she missed the first name. "Hekate. Morpheus. They give lip service to Olympus, and yet-"
"Hekate's already allied with Kro- with him." Mari said.
"Where on earth did you hear such a thing?!" Hera turned on Mari, eyes cold.
"A-Adela García-Sánchez told me," Mari stammered. "She's a daughter of Hekate, she's-"
"I know who she is." Hera sneered at the word 'she', making Mari dislike her even more. "Why did you not say this immediately?"
"I thought the council of the g- gods already knew," Mari stammered. "I'm so sorry, Queen Hera, I meant no-"
"Fine." Hera waved her away in a tone which sounded like it was the opposite of fine.
"That's where Dionysus went." Percy frowned. "He was checking on the minor gods."
"Indeed." Hera eyed the mosaics as she spoke. "You see, in times of trouble, even gods can lose faith. They start putting their trust in the wrong things, petty things. They stop looking at the big picture and start being selfish. But I'm the goddess of marriage. 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."
Mari frowned. Hera definitely knew more about that kind of thing than she did. Still, Mari couldn't help but feel that something was wrong there. Marriage, and family shouldn't be something you have to 'rise above' or 'persevere' through. Sure, good things were hard sometimes, but that didn't mean all hard things were good. The image Hera was describing... well, to Mari, it didn't sound good.
"What are your goals?" Annabeth asked.
Hera 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 with much, I'm afraid. But once every century or so, for a quest I care deeply about, he allows me to grant a wish."
Allows?! Mari thought.
"A wish?" Annabeth asked.
Hera nodded. "Before you ask it, let me give you some advice, which I can do for free. I know you seek 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 has kept up with Daedalus and could tell you his fate, it is Hephaestus."
"How do we get there?" Annabeth asked. "That's my wish. I want a way to navigate the labyrinth."
Hera looked annoyed. "So be it. You wish for something, however, that you have already been given."
"I don't understand." Annabeth frowned. "We have Mari, but she gets too tired to-"
"Forget Marion." Hera waved a dismissive hand. Gee, thanks, Mari thought. "A better way is already within your grasp. Percy knows the answer."
Apparently this was news to Percy, who looked like he'd just been called on by a particularly vindictive teacher holding a surprise quiz in front of the whole class. "I do?"
"But that's not fair," Annabeth said. "You're not telling us what it is!"
"Getting something and having the wits to use it... those are two different things," Hera said. "I'm sure your mother, Athena, would agree."
The room rumbled with thunder, making Mari jump and fall off her chair.
"That would be my cue." Hera smiled and helped her up. "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, no matter how common they may seem." Hera pointed at both of the doors, and they melted away. She turned to Annabeth again, for the last time. "One last thing, Annabeth. I have postponed your day of choice. I have not prevented it. Soon, as Ja..." (that name went fuzzy again) "...said, you will have to make a decision. Farewell!"
With that, Hera disappeared into little more than a wisp of smoke.
"What sort of help was that?" Annabeth threw her hands up. "'Here, have a sandwich. Make a wish. Oops, I can't help you!' Poof!"
"Well, she said Percy knows the answer," Grover said. "That's something."
"But I don't!" Percy protested. "I don't know what she was talking about."
"Alright." Annabeth sighed. "We'll just keep going."
"Which way?" Percy asked.
Hera may have got rid of the doors to the tunnels, but they were still dark, empty passages, almost impossible to see past a few metres. Hera hadn't been as helpful as she definitely thought she was - Mari was sure there was a metaphor there somewhere. All of a sudden, Mari felt a shiver down her spine and that familiar knocking feeling in her chest. Her instincts. Before she knew what she was doing, her hand rose and she was pointing at the left door.
"Left," Grover and Tyson said in a monotone, at the exact same time. Their bodies were rigid and they'd even stood up in unison. It was honestly kind of creepy. Like those twins at the end of the corridor in that movie about the haunted hotel she'd watched when her last foster parent, Jean, was passed out on the couch.
"How can you be sure?" Annabeth asked.
"Instincts." Mari said.
"Something is coming from the right," Grover bleated.
"A big thing," Tyson added. "In a hurry."
A part of Mari shrivelled up in fear. Was it the Yale? Gods, she hoped not. Those were endangered; demigods literally weren't even allowed to kill them. But it could be something even worse...
"Left is sounding pretty good," Percy agreed, and they legged it into the aforementioned corridor without sparing a glance at whatever had caught their scent.