Chapter 57

Playing My Favorite Sport: Violence

Demigods live strange lives. We're always without a parent, sometimes without both, and home tends to mean wherever we won't die. Maybe it's normal, then, that our families tend to be abnormal. We didn't have them in the regular way. What made up mine? A thousand-year-old metal man and the friends I'd made along the way.

Point was, we make connections quickly. You didn't forget someone who watched your back and saved your skin, ever. It's just how people work. And yeah, sometimes the friends you once knew end up out of your life for ages only to stride back in as someone completely different, possibly with a menacing vertical scar. But that was expected. Time changes people. What's stranger is when someone is gone, and then you see them again, and it's still them, just like what you pictured in your head.

When that happened, it hit like a punch in the gut. Literally.

Annabeth' s gray eyes were older, her blonde curls longer, and she was even taller than me, although I tried to skip past that last one. Her skin was tanned, the complexion of someone who spent their days outdoors training instead of huddled in huts dodging monsters. Lean muscles rippled on her arms. The weapon she'd lowered was a sword, a short one, the blade half the length of Anfisa. But it was still her. There was no doubt in my mind that this was the girl I'd shared tents with, traveled alongside, conspired with to steal eyeballs. It was her.

"You're… you're real!" she said. "You aren't an illusion!"

"I'm real," I groaned. "Real and in pain."

She prodded me with her foot as if double-checking. The way she frowned, you'd think the squish of my thigh was a complex formula.

Then she did something I didn't expect. She hauled me to my feet by my shoulders and hugged me. By the time she pulled away I felt as dazed as after striking the Labyrinth floor.

"Wha— What did you do that for?"

"It was part of my plan," she said simply.

"You had a plan for running into each other in a dark tunnel while wlost in the Labyrinth?"

She rolled her eyes. "For when we found you again, dummy."

"Oh." After she pointed it out, I did feel a little stupid. "Were there any more parts to that plan?"

"Yes. A slap."

I smiled nervously. "A Karate chop's gotta count for that, right?"

"I'll allow it," she said.

We both quieted down, sizing each other up. There were more important questions than what we were asking. We both knew that, we just… didn't feel like going there yet.

"You really spent enough time thinking about this to come up with a plan for it?" I asked.

Her face darkened. "I'm considering reinstating the slap."

I wasn't sure what I'd done wrong, so I took an extra step back for safety.

Luckily the mood didn't last. She sighed, anger melting away. "You really haven't changed, know that? It's why I thought…"

"Thought what?"

"That you weren't real," she said. "That you'd been picked straight out of my brain, and created."

I stared at her. "That sounds…"

"Crazy?"

"I wouldn't go that far. Just paranoid."

"It's not paranoia!" she insisted. "And it's not craziness, or imagination, or anything like that. They've been after us since we set foot in the maze. Illusions. Tricks in the Mist, indistinguishable from reality. As if the Labyrinth alone wasn't enough to make you crazy."

"Us? Thalia was with you?"

"Yeah. Was." Annabeth sheathed her sword with extra force. "Try staying close to someone when there's imaginary monsters and illusory shapes and disembodied voices every second. I think we did pretty well. Only got separated an hour or so ago."

There was a lot I didn't know about the Labyrinth. There was a lot nobody knew about the Labyrinth. Even Daedalus, its creator, let it grow out of his control centuries ago. But illusions like this? I'd never heard of them. And this didn't sound like some one-off thing.

"These illusions," I said. "What did they look like?"

Annabeth huffed, blowing a dirty strand of blond hair out of her face. "All sorts of things. Monsters that would attack, only to transform into something else when killed. They were personalized. I don't know what Thalia got, but mine broke apart into spiders."

"Did any look like walls of light?"

Annabeth blinked. "Not yet. Why?"

Instead of answering, I pointed deeper down the tunnel.

A cloud was chugging toward us, completely filling the passage. At first it was slow, slow enough I was sure we could outrun it, but as we watched it sped up. In a rush it blasted forward and enveloped us.

It wasn't cold. Lukewarm, the haze tingled as it filled my nostrils, like breathing in evaporated tea. The sensation only lasted a second. All too soon the fog vanished, and when it did everything was different.

Annabeth was still by my side but we weren't in a tunnel anymore. The room around us was bigger than the dragon's lair, and a lot better decorated. Bleacher seats lined circular stands, wrapping the room's edges. They seemed empty when you looked straight at them, but from the corner of your eye you could spot faces; a sold-out crowd of long-dead specters.

It was an arena, a clay one that I'd seen before, just not in person. In the Theoroi's vision I'd seen this stadium lined with would-be competitors. As I looked around, they were still present— monsters, spirits, and things that looked like regular people although that was no guarantee. Most were glancing around in anticipation.

And, as I watched, I saw what they were waiting for. Clouds of mist — maybe even Mist — whisked around, depositing disoriented figures to join the crowd. Above it all floated a viewer's box, magical displays splaying a handsome face across five screens. The silver-haired man stared at the growing crowd with pure delight.

We'd done it. We'd found the Panhellenic Games. I only wished it felt a little less like the Panhellenic Games had found us.


"A one, a one two two. Testing, testing. Lovely. Everything seems to be working."

The silver-haired man's voice filled the arena, thrumming with bass-boosted authority. His eyes scanned the crowd beneath him. After a moment he braced his arms against the rim of his viewer's box, burly shoulders bulging.

"Welcome!" he bellowed. "Seriously! Honestly! All of you, each and every one, have no idea how happy your presence makes me. A competition is only as good as its contestants. And mine? They're the best of the best!"

He paused to allow a cheer to rise up. I shifted, stepping closer to Annabeth.

"Who is that?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but another voice beat her to it.

"The name's Agon!"

The voice came from above still, but also from behind. I couldn't help it. I whipped around, reflexively bringing my spear back to fend off whoever managed to sneak up on me… only for point to poof right through a copy of the silver-haired guy from the screens. The projection of our host didn't lose an inch of his smile over the spear hovering where his ribs should be.

"I'm something of a god," he carried on casually. "Domain: competition and tournaments! Makes sense, right? Who better to host the biggest sporting event in history?"

"Nike, probably," said a voice from a few rows away.

I couldn't see who'd spoken, but Agon lost his grin. He waved his hand as if swatting a gnat. There was a whoosh as a cloud fired down from the ceiling. The voice that had spoken yelped, then went completely silent.

"As I was saying," Agon went on, "I'm the unanimous pick of the bunch. The only choice, really. But we aren't here for that. No no no no no— we're here for you. So without further ado, let's get some introductions!"

I was worried we'd have to turn to the person next to us and list off our names, hobbies, where we were coming from and maybe our best mile time. That would just be weird, not to mention awkward. But that had nothing on what came next.

The lights dimmed. In the dark you could see the ghostly spectators better, hear their low moaning that almost passed for cheers but ended up closer to a zombie getting a really good massage. A cylinder of light beamed down to highlight competitors out of the crowd.

"First off, hailing from deep in the Everglades, we have Zach the satyr!"

A satyr with curly blond hair and an American flag print tank top hoisted his Coors Light can.

"After decades of experience bounding through the swamps, you'll be hard-pressed to find a more fleet-hoofed satyr this side of the Atlantic. Any words for the competition, Zach?"

"Two things in this world, nobody can beat me at— Hurdles, and shotgunning." He hurled his beer can back, but instead of chugging it he shoved the whole thing in his mouth, chewing the metal. He grinned, showing off scraps stuck in his incisors. "And shucks, too bad for y'all I'm all out of cans."

"A strong statement!" Agon roared. The crowd groaned louder, as if he had them on remote control. "The implication is clear— get in his way, and he'll chew up even the steeliest of competitors. Next, born of death and pestilence and everything evil, help me in welcoming Gertrude the Keres!"

The spotlight centered on one of the uglier monsters I'd ever seen. Her arms were regular length except for long spindly fingers. Her back was bent in the shape of a cane. From the hips to the neck she had strange, gray fur, and leather wings sprouted from her back, helping her stay up on stubby stunted legs. Her face was the worst. Flat nose, puffed-up red eyes and fanged teeth, all set against wrinkled skin.

"Gertrude?" The Keres hissed. "I have no such name. I have no name at all!"

"And now you see my problem," Agon said. "I'm doing you a favor, really. Can't be having nameless competitors, that would cause far too much confusion."

"The Keres are dangerous," Annabeth whispered at me. She had her sword out. "They're spirits of disease and poison. One cut from their claws will pump enough venom to kill a sea monster."

That wasn't what I wanted to hear, because Gertrude looked mad. She swelled, beating her wings to rise off the ground.

"First you abduct me, now you mock me?" Gertrude stretched her jaw like a snake's until it clicked, glaring. "Your Mist swallows me as I sleep, drags me here, and you force me to compete in your sham? All of this has poisoned my mood… and put me in the mood to poison!"

For once, the monster didn't go for me. I knew my luck would turn one day. Gertrude flew for the viewer's box, bat wings only slightly slower than a Fury's.

"Tsk," Agon said. "What a mess. Is it too much to expect a little manners? Boys, get her!"

The screen displaying Agon's face panned to show the whole viewer's box. Agon wasn't alone up there. As soon as Gertrude burst into the picture she was swamped by figures with shifting faces. Seven of the Theoroi surged around her, grabbing and holding on.

Gertrude shrieked. She lashed out, and fought, and was still closing in on Agon when an eighth Theoroi joined in.

This one was shorter. He seemed younger, although I wasn't sure how I could tell. I just knew, same way I knew that this was the Theoroi I'd met south of San Francisco. He grabbed Gertrude by her furry shoulders and, with that crazy strength of his, smashed her into the floor, pressing her hands to her sides.

Agon was silent for a moment, watching with the last Theoroi beside him. I realized he was showing off. It was a message— play along, or this could be you. Then he made a gesture, a theatrical thumbs-down. The Theoroi at his side drew a bow, raised it, and buried an arrow between Gertrude's puffy red eyes.

"Now," Agon said coolly, "what were we doing again? Ah, right. Introductions. His friends call him the scourge of Wichita, this fine competitor goes by…"

The introductions went on without any more interruptions. From some expressions there were definitely others that had been grabbed like us and Gertrude— against their will, in other words. But either like us they actually were trying to find their way here, or they were trying not to end up like Gertrude. They took their introductions in silence, with maybe a glare.

Through it all I kept waiting for a sign of my friends, any of them, but the first faces I recognized didn't really count as friendly.

"The ultimate attendants, slayers of beasts and scorners of men, these girls are mortal no more! Give it up, for the Hunters of Artemis!"

I could just about see the Hunters through the crowd, now that the spotlight pointed them out. All of them had bows drawn. They were eying the monsters around them as if they wanted to start shooting, but were managing to hold back.

"Zoe?" Annabeth said.

"You know her?"

"We've met. But the Hunters would never care about competing in something like this. What's she doing here?"

"They must've gotten grabbed the same as we did."

"I guess. But—"

Annabeth cut off, shielding her eyes. The spotlight was on us.

"And now, folks, we have a real treat. Camp Half-Blood's own Annabeth Chase!"

I'm not shy, but so many eyes turning our way made me want to sink into the floor.

"Counselor of her cabin from the age of ten! One of two demigods alive to take on multiple quests! With an impressive resume, she arrives a favorite to take it all home!"

I glanced at Annabeth from the corner of my eye. Her expression didn't change, she didn't shift to stand a different way or anything like that, but it was a good reminder. Just because she hadn't changed didn't mean she'd been doing nothing. Hearing her achievements listed out reminded me of something else, too. If everyone was getting an intro, what would mine be? Just because I planned to tell her about the titans eventually didn't mean I wanted her to find out from an immortal M.C.

"And, next to her—"

Attention shifted to me. I held my breath.

"—born against the oath, he's a forbidden child! Fury's fear him! Phonoi flee at the sound of his steps! It's Peeeeercy Jaaaaackson!"

I exhaled. Some of the crowd was looking at me a little hungrily. A few seemed like they were visualizing my head separated from its shoulders. I could deal with that, as long as my connection to Kronos was kept secret.

"You've been busy," Annabeth whispered.

You have no idea. "So have you, counselor."

"Touché."

"But with that, introductions are complete," Agon said. "I'm sure all of you are chaffing under that one burning question: what next? Well, folks, I've got great news. We're getting right into things with the first event!"

Everything was silent. Then the competitors erupted.

"I know, I know," Agon said, gesturing for calm. "It's sudden. It is! But look at it this way. You get to make your mark this much sooner! It's what all of you are here for. To inscribe your name on the annals of history! So why wait, and why worry? Rise to the challenge!"

The ghostly crowd went louder than I'd heard them yet, and it still wasn't enough to drown out the complaints.

"There is also one small issue," Agon went on. "A teency, tiny little problem. See, there are too many of you."

I looked around the room. It was pretty packed, definitely a crowd. But there couldn't have been more than fifty. For the so-called greatest tournament of all time, that didn't seem like a lot.

It was like Agon read my mind. "We don't just have this location, see. Suitable venues are crucial to any set of games, and this one has six. But I suppose we advertised just a bit too well. More of you showed up than we can accommodate, which means it's time for a little… pre-test, if you will. Don't worry though, you won't be doing this for nothing. We'll pierce two targets with a single arrow— this event will double as a way for each of you to choose your teammates!"

"The rules are simple!" Agon clapped. Three of the screens showing his face changed, switching to five-minute timers. "When the time is up, whoever is closest to you will be your partner. You'll work together, compete together, and one lucky pair will win together, so try to pick well— there's no changing who you get stuck with."

"But, if all we're doing is picking partners…" A dryad spoke up. "How does that reduce the numbers?"

"Ah ah ah!" Agon waggled his finger. "I never said that was all you would be doing now, did I? For as long as the timer's in effect, all competitors are fair game. Take down as many as you like. My Theoroi and I won't lift a pinkie."

Every competitor went silent— some from shock, others with anticipation. Annabeth and I shared a look before gripping our weapons tighter.

"Ya can't do this!" a voice yelled. It was Zach, the Floridian satyr. He'd pulled a running baton from somewhere and was waving it like a pistol. "This ain't no free-for-all fighting pit, it's supposed to be a sporting event! I'm a runner, not no fighter!"

"Well," Agon said mildly, "then you'd best find a fighter to partner with. Or hope you're a really good runner. Any more questions?"

About twenty hands went up. Agon didn't blink.

"No? Lovely. I do enjoy an obedient crowd. Well, get to it. Time starts… NOW!"

He made a flourish. The timers changed to 4:99. Someone tried to cave my skull in.

Ducking just in time to let a shot put whistle past, I popped up to find a Laistrygonian in track and field gear giving me his ugliest grin.

"I didn't even get an introduction!" he bellowed. "Me, the strongest arm in the world! It isn't fair! "

"Aw man, I'm sorry," I said. "You should really file a complaint with upper management, though. Taking it out on me won't solve anything."

The poor guy was too far gone to see reason. He reached back, pulling a javelin off his back and snagging a discus from his hip, readying one in each hand.

"You got the best introduction," he said. "I kill you here, they have to give me one next round! Hold still. Will only take one shot."

Before he could throw he cried out. He dropped his athletic equipment to clutch at his stomach, beginning to disintegrate. In a moment the strongest arm in the world had switched conferences to Tartarus.

A moment later something invisible brushed my arm.

"Keep them distracted," Annabeth said. "I'll pick off any that come for you."

"Why do I have to do the dangerous bit?" I complained.

"Can you turn invisible? That's what I thought. Besides, you have the more punchable face."

Coming from someone with a whole plan around slapping me, I was ready to believe her.

Some sort of humanoid I didn't recognize charged me. I sidestepped and ran it through with Anthea. Two Daemons tried to take advantage only to freeze, staring at the wounds that appeared on them. In a moment they dissolved, seemingly killed by empty air.

I was ready to keep fighting for a long five minutes. Turns out that wasn't necessary. We were getting a wide berth.

Once we showed we weren't easy pickings the aggressive ones turned to softer targets. I waited a long thirty seconds before turning to where I thought Annabeth was.

"I guess we scared them."

"For now," her voice answered from a totally different direction. "Just don't— Look out!"

The warning saved my life. I spun in time to block a sword with my spear's shaft.

I found myself staring into the face of a girl, one that looked somewhere in her mid-twenties. She had short-cut brown hair, pearly teeth, and a grin that dripped bloodlust.

"Should've let this be easy," she said.

Two more identical girls darted around from behind her. I jumped back, letting their swords swipe empty air. Two more came from the flanks, but I rolled away and one 'mysteriously tripped' into the legs of the other, keeping them from following. I'd make sure to thank Annabeth later.

I didn't have long to regroup. The first one came again, and she was on me before I could breathe.

All of them were dressed in road gear — tight leather pants and biker jackets covered with patches — but that wasn't slowing her down. She was even faster than Nera. Her sword nicked my shoulder. When I blocked a stab she lunged sideways, digging her teeth into my shoulder. I answered with a punch that rattled her eyes in her skull, but even as she stumbled back dazed she was giggling happily. Two of her sisters took her place.

Annabeth was distracting two, but in the process her magic cap had been knocked off. She was holding on the same as I was. We wouldn't last.

One of the girls darted into my blindside, and I got lucky. Her sword sliced through my sleeve but rebounded off my metal arm. She was forced to take a step back. I tried to capitalize with a stab, not hoping for much.

Anthea cut deep into her side. I almost gaped. Huh? What had happened to all that speed? She took a few more steps back, wincing with pain, then raised her sword and charged. She covered the distance in the time it took to blink. Her speed was back, and with it my time to think disappeared.

The clock was still going— only two minutes left. I could've done with less.

In my peripherals I saw Annabeth darting around. She led the two after her in circles, forcing them through crowded bodies and tricky terrain. Slipping between a cyclops's legs, she used its body like a shield, buying herself a minute.

"Percy!" she shouted. "The're Proioxis! You have to stop their momentum!"

"Wha—" I barely blocked two slashes, only for a third to graze my chest. "Little busy!"

"That's what I'm telling you! They're spirits of onrush— charging grants them speed!"

I didn't have a clue how that worked, but I needed to change something. I decided to trust her. Lunging, I forced one to back up by swinging my spear like a bat, following up with a stab.

Somehow, it worked perfectly. Anthea pierced her, and the Proioxis dissolved into wisps of smoke.

I thought that would buy me time, make the others change strategies. Instead the remaining two came after me like nothing happened.

"Back off already!" I said between blows. "Don't end up vaporized for nothing!"

The one that had attacked first seemed like the leader, although it was hard to tell. They were all identical.

"Better dead than in retreat!" she cackled. "Forward is our way. Our only way!"

"That's stupid."

"You wouldn't understand our conviction, mortal!" she hissed back. "None ever do."

Now that I knew how to fight them, holding on got easier. One minute left. Annabeth appeared at my back.

"I know you," Annabeth told their leader. "You're spirits, daughters of Eris. You appear on Hercules' shield. But I thought there was only one."

I guess she picked a good topic, because the spirits actually stopped attacking to answer.

"A common misconception," said the leader. "Everyone knows us from the shield, and suddenly they think we're a single spirit! We've been battling that myth for ages. As you can see, we're siblings. Identical siblings."

"So which one's on the shield?" I wondered.

All of them scowled at the exact same time, which made me feel like I was trapped between funhouse mirrors.

"Watch your mouth," said one.

"I'm just wondering. My guess is it's your leader."

Rather than confirm or deny it, they shrieked. I guess I was getting better at pissing off others— now I could do it without even knowing what I said.

And boy, had I gotten under their skin. All four surged at me. They weren't bothering to protect themselves at all, just aiming to kill me. I was sure I could take out one, maybe two, but that would let the others sink their swords into me.

"Time!"

Agon's voice flooded the arena. An obnoxious beeping sounded as the timers struck zero. Mist flooded in from everywhere — the ceiling, the floor, the gaps beneath the stands — swallowing every competitor and pulling us out of the arena the same way we were brought in.

Saved by the clock. The Proioxis leader locked eyes with me. I saw her lips moving, some final words, but it was too late. We were already being sucked from the room.

The arena disappeared. For the second time that day Annabeth and I were dumped somewhere completely new. And this time, the first thing I saw were a pair of disappointed blue eyes.

"Up!" commanded a woman's voice. "You're bleeding all over my fresh carpets!"

(-)

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