The Stygian ice whistle in Percy's pocket felt like it was freezing a hole in his thighs.
Standing around Zeus's fist, the quest group made for something of a sorry sight. Juniper was fussing over Grover's appearance, making sure that his disguise as a human was still intact - after all, it might be necessary, given the uncertainty of their path. Annabeth stood awkwardly by Chiron and Quintus, clutching her baseball hat nervously like it was going to fly away any second.
Annabeth frowned at Percy. "You look like shit," she said, matter-of-fact. "Have you been sleeping?"
He hadn't, but he nodded anyways. "I'm fine, Beth," he said with a smile, and the blonde blushed slightly. "Do I look that bad?" He asked, halfway grinning, trying to lighten the mood a little bit. His oldest half-blood friend shrugged, then, gently, nodded.
"Yeah, a little bit. Just tired," she explained hurriedly, "not, like, ugly, or anything. You look good - uh, normally good - oh, fuck it. You know what I mean," she said, and Percy laughed. It was a welcome laugh. Pre-quest nerves were hard for Percy to get rid of, but Annabeth had a good knack for getting rid of them for him.
"You're looking healthier," he offered in return. She was, to an extent - still heavy bags under her eyes, still clearly exhausted and weaker than she'd like, but she walked upright now, her voice growing firmer to remind him of the steel he knew should be in her voice. She blushed again, which she was doing a lot these days, since she'd awoken. Percy put it out of his mind. "I wish you could come with us," he said. "But…"
She smiled softly, with more than a little sadness. "I know, Seaweed Brain. I want to go - but we both know I shouldn't." With that, she walked off to talk to Thalia for a moment, and Percy was left to turn to the Teacher of Heroes and his new swordsman assistant.
Percy acknowledged Quintus with a nod, gave Mrs. O'Leary a quick belly rub, and told Chiron about his dream - or at least, a little bit of one of them. When he had finished, the Teacher of Heroes had begun to frown, forgoing his former brave appearance.
"This is truly troubling, young Perseus. I am not certain what my father would be bargaining for, but Kronos can find a way to turn anyone to his will."
"Not anyone," Percy said with conviction. Unconsciously, he glanced at Thalia.
"No," Chiron agreed with a wry, knowing smile. "Not everyone. But Daedalus, well, he may lack your strength of mind, my boy, or your strength of conviction. And if he does… there may be no Camp for you to return to."
On that happy note, Chiron went to speak with Grover and Tyson, who were standing begrudgingly within 6 feet of each other (though only because Juniper was forcing them to). Annabeth followed him, greeting Grover with a quick hug, and Thalia wandered over to stand by Percy.
"You do look like shit, Perce," she said as an aside. When he turned a disbelieving look on her, she smirked and shrugged. "Sorry."
Thalia didn't look like shit. She looked great. Her usual leather jacket covered a crop top and form-fitting combat pants. It was a practical outfit, well-suited to combat and adaptable to various temperature extremes. It was also doing things to Percy's brain that made functioning normally difficult. She stretched and Percy's eyes locked themselves onto her abs for just a half second before he regained higher function and snapped his eyes away, hoping that she hadn't noticed. He coughed.
"You ready?"
She nodded.
"Take care," Chiron said, "and good hunting."
Percy shivered as his mind conjured Kronos's voice saying much the same thing to Luke, in last night's dream. Then, he led the group underground.
Half a mile later, they were hopelessly lost.
Percy was really, really missing his magical powers. Damn this maze and its magical vampirism. Every time Percy tried to summon something magical, fire or a doorway or anything else, he found himself panting with exhaustion for exactly zero result.
The brick walls of the tunnel had given way to musty concrete tubes, which had then opened out into a large wooden hall featuring four doors - and no way back into the tunnel they had been in. Tyson and Grover were both grumbling about something to do with 'cold, tiny cave places' while Percy and Thalia searched desperately for some clue of where to go.
Grover ended up at the door in what Percy thought might have been the north corner, by a door that was beautiful oak lined with crawling, writhing vines. Tyson was opposite him, near a door cast from a single piece of solid iron and carved with ornate details inlaid with bronze. Thalia was in the 'east' corner, if Percy's bearings still meant anything, which was unlikely. Her door was simple, homely. A door that wouldn't be out of place in a nice little mountain town. Mesmerized by his own door, an internal hatch like one might see on a naval ship, Percy reached for the wheel to open it.
His neck hair tingled as his fingers wrapped around the cold steel, and he whirled. "Stop."
As one, everyone else's hands froze, just millimeters from their own door handles.
"This is wrong," Percy said. "I can't use my magic down here, but I can still sense it. None of these doors are correct. The maze is trying to divide us."
"But I can sense so much nature down this way!" Grover whined.
"Fire," Tyson said. "Forges."
Thalia shrugged and went to the center of the room. "I was thinking that Daedalus's workshop would be in the old, simpler section of the maze. Somewhere the Labyrinth would spread out from."
"I know," Percy said. He didn't entirely understand why he had stopped either. "It just feels wrong. Hecate… I think she might be helping me." He cast his gaze about the room. Wooden columns expanded as he watched, the doors shrinking away to nothingness. Evidently the maze was listening in, trying its absolute best to foil their quest, the room growing in length infinitely. A single wooden door appeared on the far wall, sinking slowly into the distance as their room slowly stretched further and further. "It's alive," Percy breathed in realization.
"Don't - don't fucking say that," Thalia whispered angrily. Grover nodded furious agreement. Tyson, for his part, just stared around in wonder.
"Okay, maybe not alive," Percy amended quickly. "But… aware. It's trying to trick us."
"Well let's not have that happen," Thalia resolved firmly. "You think Hecate is helping you. Where should we go?"
Shrugging helplessly, Percy cast his eyes around for some symbol in the room. The beamed ceiling rose high above their heads, architecture reminiscent of the pictures Annabeth had shown him - Westminster Hall? In place of the windows one might expect of such a great hall were metal grates, behind which flickered torches who gave off no smoke. Painted murals and woven tapestries thirty feet high danced between the grates, dogs and gods and monsters floating around each other, and -
Wait, torches?
One of the torches cast purple light onto its grate, its flames looking just like the ones Percy could summon from his hands. Or, at least, the ones he had been able to summon when he was aboveground, he thought bitterly, purple sparks guttering out on his hands as he absently checked again. No success in that, sadly, but he had found a way out nonetheless. Torches were a symbol of Hecate's, one of many - and this one burned with her fire.
"This way."
As the others gathered behind him, Percy pulled at the grate in front of the purple torch. It shook, but he couldn't pry it loose - until Tyson's massive hands reached over his shoulder and hooked themselves through the mesh of the grate, ripping its steel easily and casting the enormously heavy object aside with ease.
It skittered across the floor noisily, but Percy didn't care. He hoisted himself up as Tyson quickly launched first Grover and then Thalia up to the ledge, before all three of them worked to haul up the massive cyclops. Then, the group turned around to inspect their fancy new way around the Labyrinth's horrors, courtesy of Percy's godly sponsor.
The first thing he noticed was that this cave was nothing like any of the Labyrinth passages they'd explored previously (however few those were). Previously, the walls had been of orderly construction, well-engineered, with long, sweeping curves and smooth gradients. This cave was scarcely tall enough for Thalia at times, and Percy and Tyson struggled and ducked under the low roof. It looked like the walls had been carved with hand tools, jagged edges scraping Percy's spine and sides, the infrequent recesses for torches providing scarcely enough purple light to guide the group through the tunnel as it climbed, dove, and doubled back on itself incessantly for what felt like miles - and hours.
Gradually it widened out, and when he straightened his posture his spine creaked and groaned, giving off a series of clicks and pops that made Thalia turn an amused eye back in his direction.
Percy couldn't help but blush as he met her gaze.
Soon the tunnel was wide enough for the group to walk in sets of two abreast, Percy and Thalia walking ahead and Grover and Tyson bringing up the rear. It felt like the tunnel had gone on for miles, gradually descending further and further into the earth, but eventually it arrived at a small circular cavern, big enough for even Tyson to stand upright and maybe twenty feet in diameter. In the center of the room, reaching up into the domed roof, was a slightly rusted steel ladder.
After exchanging a glance with Thalia and giving her a nonplussed shrug, he set off up the ladder.
At the top was a suspiciously modern looking concrete door. Percy grunted quietly and shouldered the door, forcing it open just a few inches. Despite its enormous weight, the hinges swung open silently, and after glancing around to make sure that the coast was (relatively) clear, he shoved it open the rest of the way and climbed out into a tiny utility closet.
He turned to search for a door just as Thalia stumbled off the ladder behind him, and in the ensuing stumbles and trips the two ended up in a confused tangle, Thalia pinned by Percy's body against a shelf loaded heavily with cleaning supplies. Their faces just inches from each other, their eyes locked, neither spoke. Neither breathed. Percy felt heat rushing up to his cheeks as he fought back a blush, eyes darting down past Thalia's dark eyeshadow and bright blue eyes to full, red lips -
"Uh, guys," Grover called in a stage-whisper. "Door's over here."
Thalia and Percy scrambled apart and blushed furiously, stammering out excuses and accusatory remarks as loudly as they dared in the strange space of the utility closet. Thalia forced her way to the door Grover and Tyson had found, as though she was trying to put as much space between her and Percy as she could, and then strode confidently through the door.
When Percy followed her, there was very nearly a repeat of the incident in the closet, as Percy barged immediately into Thalia's back where she had frozen in shock.
They were in a large concrete oval. To Percy, it looked like something out of an old war film - the kind of place that had a big map full of flashing red lights where nukes had hit. The walls were covered with flags. But what had shocked Thalia wasn't their location, but their company.
A brown-haired woman approached, a simple chiton in royal purple flowing behind her as she strode towards them. She was beautiful, but not in the statuesque way that Percy had become accustomed to in the world of the Greeks. Instead, hers was a softer beauty, more matronly and kind than imposing and strong. She was tall and graceful, with a royal air, but still seemingly approachable.
"Not who you were expecting to see?" She said to Percy, but her eyes were locked on Thalia.
"Who are you?" He responded, in what was perhaps not the friendliest tone.
"Hera," Thalia bit out. "This is… Hera."
Suddenly Percy understood the shock Thalia had experienced. Seeing Amphitrite would have probably scared the shit out of him too. But what he couldn't understand was why Thalia looked so outraged. She looked like Hera had personally held Thalia down and made her watch as Hera kicked a bunch of puppies.
"Uh… hey, Lady Hera," Percy said, in a feeble bid to break some of the tension in the room. "Thanks for getting us out of that room, but… uh, what's going on? Why help us?"
The Queen of the Gods smiled, but her eyes remained frozen, cold, glaring at Thalia. "Come, sit," she said, instead of answering. "Speak with me." She waved her hand, and plates of food appeared on the horseshoe-shaped table which ringed the room's center. They were stacked high with sandwiches and chips and everything else besides, accompanied by pitchers of drinks, and Percy's stomach rumbled eagerly. But he glanced to the side at Thalia, who stood resolutely where she was.
"You killed my brother," Thalia said. Her voice was calm now, eerily so, and her gaze bored into Hera's eyes.
"Your father had betrayed me twice, with the same woman. This was something I was not willing to forgive. To preserve our relationship, to protect your life and your mother's, he gave me your brother's life," Hera answered coldly. "Be grateful I was so gracious. I could have demanded far more."
Thalia bristled but Percy stepped in first, hoping to stem the argument before it could develop. "Lady Hera, what did you want to speak to us about?" He sat down at the table, but didn't bother touching the food yet. Tyson and Grover ate more than enough to make up for him and Thalia, though (with Grover going so far as to chew some of the table leg as well as the actual food set out). Thalia, begrudgingly, sat next to Percy. Hera took her seat as far away from the demigods as possible, in a regal-looking chair she transformed from one of the rather uncomfortable wood chairs.
"Percy Jackson. As I recall, I voted not to destroy you and Ms. Grace here on the Winter Solstice. I certainly hope I made the… right decision," Hera said in a tone that left Percy in no doubt as to what the 'right decision' appeared to be to Hera. "But, as for why we're here… My goal, as ever, is to keep my family together. To keep us strong. This coming war will doubtless lead to petty squabbles amongst us, as it already has with the minor gods." She paused, staring at Percy, and then amended that remark. "... With many of the minor gods, anyways. The majority of them are fickle, weak-minded. They wish only to be recognized. But regardless, I wish to keep my family together. And the best way for me to do that is to grant you a wish."
"A wish?" Thalia asked, her voice still preternaturally calm. "Can I wish for my brother back?"
Hera began to glow faintly, and Percy could tell that she was struggling to keep her affectation of being motherly and kind. "No," she said shortly. "But you could wish for something relevant to your quest. Or rather, Perseus could, as he is leading this quest."
Percy grabbed Thalia's hand under the table and squeezed gently, shaking his head. He felt her trembling with rage, but she squeezed his hand twice in response - she understood.
"Well, before I make my wish, could you answer some questions for us?" Percy asked. His brain was a little fuzzy because Thalia hadn't let go of his hand.
"No."
Well, shit.
"Ah… can I speak with my friends for a minute?" He asked.
"Certainly," Hera said. She made no attempt to give them any privacy, instead simply staring at Percy while the others turned to look at him and shuffled closer.
"Uh, guys," he began. "This seems like something we should maybe deal with as a group. Any thoughts?"
"Your magic back would be nice," Thalia pointed out after a second. "If you could just… open a doorway to Daedalus's lab, that would make things super easy. Even if that doesn't work, surely it'd be useful."
Grover bleated. "Why not just wish for navigation? We're so lost. Surely if we could find our way, everything else will be easier." Tyson nodded, and Percy had to admit that Grover had a point. Navigation was their biggest problem, and it seemed like the one Hera was most likely to solve. Part of Percy expected her to refuse even because it didn't seem like she was in a particularly generous mood.
He had to wonder why she had come at all.
"I'm gonna go for navigation," Percy decided. Nobody else seemed to object, so he turned to Hera. She looked disappointed but unsurprised. With a nod, the food disappeared, and Tyson was left chomping down on empty air. Grover, however, was more than happy with his improved access to what was apparently a delicious tabletop. "I wish for a way to navigate the maze."
"I was hoping for more imagination, I suppose, but at least this wish will be easy to grant. So be it. You wish for something you have already been given, Perseus, if you were only wise enough to know. The means are already well within your grasp."
She stood up.
"But that's not what I wished for," Percy said. "I wished for a way to navigate the maze, not to be told I already had one. I thought you wanted to help us to protect your family's integrity?"
It was the wrong thing to say.
Brown eyes glowed dangerously bright, nearly golden with fury. "Do not presume to question me, child. I was born before your father. I may not wield elements, but I have far more power than you can comprehend. Be grateful I have allowed you to exist this long, insect, and do not tempt me to rescind this grace."
With that, she vanished in a sudden breeze.
Thalia's hand squeezed Percy's firmly, and he sighed.
"Well, guys," he said. "That was… not great. I'm sorry."
"Hey, it's okay, Perce," Grover tried feebly. "And you already apparently know how to get there, so we just have to… figure that out. It's something, right?"
He shook his head. "But I really don't know, guys. I don't have a clue." He searched his brain for any semblance of knowing, any way he could think of to bring people through the Labyrinth. Ariadne had given Theseus a string. But clearly no mortal ball of yarn could guide them through this magical maze. "And where the hell are we, anyways?"
"A war room, from the Cold War."
The entire group whirled - and there, leaning against one of the many flags draped from the wall, was a thirty something man in a simple but nice suit. Oddly, he wore mirrored wraparound sunglasses despite the darkness of the room.
"When this room was in use, I foresaw who would win what counted for a war then," said the figure. With a wave of his hand, the room was bathed in red light - where previously Hera had illuminated the war room with harsh white light, like an overeager angel decorating or a New York landlord repainting a too-small apartment, now there was a red light like you might see in an old submarine movie. "I have foreseen everything in human history, children, and I am never wrong. But I am also your friend. I like humans. I have tried, at every turn, to aid you, to advance you as a species and as a people."
As he drew nearer, Percy began to make out more detail, the dim silhouette turning into a more detailed figure. The man was more than seven feet tall, with long black hair drawn back into a tight ponytail and more disturbingly, a maze of chicken-scratch scars webbed across his face and expanding outwards from his eyes. It was almost as though someone had drawn a map of Chicago or some other similarly messy downtown on the man's face.
"And that is why," he concluded, "I am here, now. Because, for all the flaws of mankind, for all the cruelties you have wrought upon me… I like you. I wish to protect you from unnecessary suffering. I wish to… to guide you unto a new golden age. Man need no longer struggle under the yoke of the Gods."
Percy coughed awkwardly. "Sorry, but, uh… who are you?"
The man sighed and rubbed one temple, sitting down in a large leather chair that appeared from thin air. The red lights on the wall glinted ominously off his mirror-finish glasses. Percy wanted a pair of those, for fun.
"I am Prometheus, Titan of forethought. I gave man fire. I gave you curiosity. Inventiveness. Discovery. I have always been a helper of man."
Thalia spoke up this time, clearly still fuming from her interaction with Hera. "Zeus chained you to a rock and had your organs pecked out by vultures."
He winced, hand ghosting towards the scars surrounding his sunglasses. "Don't - don't mention the vultures, please."
Percy blinked. "Why are you here?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Grover asked. "He's here to tell us to give up. That the Titans will be better for us than the Gods. That we shouldn't bother saving Camp, when all that it will accomplish is delaying the inevitable, extending the suffering he thinks we feel."
"Remarkably astute for a satyr," the Titan noted, "but not wrong in the slightest. Yes, my friends. I am here to ask you to lay down your arms, surrender your quest. Your friend has rather eloquently laid out all the reasons I could give.
"In short, know this. The Titans will be victorious. I have foreseen this, just as I foresaw the victory of the gods in the last war. When that time comes, I do not wish to see mankind squashed like their Olympian overlords. If you join us, abandon this quest, I can ensure that you will live like kings, free of the yoke of your parents. Free of the burdens of godly blood."
An image flashed through Percy's mind. He was on a beach somewhere, older, chasing his young son through the surf. Thalia, in her own swimsuit, watched from the shade of an umbrella.
Another image took over. Percy in chains on his knees, forced to watch as an unhappy Thalia walks towards Luke. The man's eyes glow golden as he stares at the daughter of Zeus, resplendent in her wedding dress despite her obvious displeasure.
"How can we trust that?" Percy asked.
"Can't," Tyson grumbled. "Big man lies a lot. He did all things to make humans worship him." The ginormous cyclops shook his head. "Mister Titan is saying what we want him to."
"Titan of Crafty Counsel, too, not just forethought," Grover confirmed. "There may be some truth to what he's saying - maybe he really would keep Kronos from just killing all demigods, all of humanity - but I would be very surprised if any of us ever lived like kings." Grover amended the thought. "Or like humans."
"Crafty counsel?" Prometheus raised a single eyebrow, cool as a cucumber. "Sometimes, I suppose. When it benefits me. But what benefit comes to me by saving humanity?" He paused. "How could I craft sticking my neck out for humans, for heroes, into a benefit for myself?" The Titan waltzed slowly around the room, trailing one hand on the oval table as he watched . Percy had to admit, it was intimidating.
Atlas had been massive, sheer musculature and power lumbering through the world. He'd been scary, sure, and certainly intimidating, but only in the sense that Percy knew that Atlas wanted his lunch money and had the muscle to take it. Like the bullies Percy which had troubled Percy in his youth, before his godly heritage had shot him to his current stature, before he had become athletic and tall.
Prometheus, though still nearly a full foot taller than Percy, had a different sort of danger about him. You weren't worried about your lunch money. You were worried for your life. A dull orange glow shone from behind those strange sunglasses, and Percy was reminded for just a moment of Ares, whose eyes were shining pits of flame. The Titan made him feel on edge, uneasy. Like he was being stalked by the Nemean Lion, but he couldn't see it. Like when Chimera and Echidna had disguised themselves on the St. Louis Arch. You got the sense there was a predator in the room, prowling, ready to pounce - and you knew that no matter what, it was going to get the drop on you.
Percy shivered involuntarily.
"Consider my offer, young ones. Kronos only wants Olympus. So long as you do not interfere, he has no reason to destroy you." He turned to Percy, eyes brightening slightly, flames showing through the glasses. "You, Perseus, could save every single demigod. You could protect the human race. Or," he finished slowly, "you could destroy them."
With that, Prometheus vanished, a burst of flame. The lights on the walls flickered, faded slightly, then returned to their full strength, still red.
The group was still standing together, but Percy had never felt so damn alone.
When they had made their way out of the war room, through a long, military hallway that echoed heavily with their footsteps. Percy's boots sounded especially loud on the disused concrete, the clomp of his heels in his logger boots ringing in his ears.
Nobody had said a word since Prometheus left. Nobody had to.
Percy's mind swam. Thoughts flooded his mind, unbidden and unwanted, flashes of demigod visions and human anxieties. Visions of his mother, sobbing over a sea-green veil. Of Annabeth, in chains, kneeling next to a throne on which a golden-Luke sat. A vision of Thalia, crippled and bleeding, being hunted down by hundreds of monsters. Thalia, paraded through streets, force-marched to her execution. Grover, waiting on hand and hoof for Titans who abuse him without a thought. Tyson, forced to lay stones in boiling heat, watched by traitorous demigods wielding whips and spears.
Equally, Percy's fears were matched by Kronos's promises through Prometheus.
His mother, happy, stress-free. A successful author, free to pursue her dreams. Annabeth, architect for the new world order, building monuments and cities to last millennia. Grover, protecting the wild with the power to make real change. Tyson, finally recognized and accepted, leading a legion of blacksmiths to forge the weapons of the future. Thalia, looking resplendent, glowing with happiness in a white dress. Percy, waiting for her.
What should he do? What could he do? Could he protect himself, his friends, his family, if he stayed on the side of the Gods, if he strayed to the side of the Titans?
Nothing made sense. Nothing worked. He felt awful, for thinking these things, for judging Luke as harshly as he had. The weight of the human race, on Percy's shoulders, pinning him down. Every step felt like torture. Every moment and breath felt like his last.
A dozen paces behind him, Thalia.
He wished the answer would come easily. He wished he were the hero of the stories in his youth, who effortlessly made the right choices.
He marched onwards down the military hallway.
Howdy all. Sorry for the long wait. Was very busy, will probably continue to be. Also just wasn't feeling this chapter much.
Had a few fun ideas for it that took me a while to flesh out - hope you like them. Prometheus came early, and Percy isn't perfect. Funny thing about evil - it usually benefits the people who perpetrate it. That can make it seductive, even to the good, the righteous. Will Percy fall? Probably not, but it's fun to wonder, isn't it?
Short chapter, again. Sorry. 4666 words in total, which isn't much. Still more than 76k words into this thing, which is about 75k further than I expected to get.
Anyways. Hope you enjoyed it. Hope the next one won't take me as long as I expect.
