Chapter 62

The Othrys Crime Rate Rises

"Four seconds."

"I see it, Percy."

"Four seconds! If Zoe hadn't let us go ahead…"

"I know. I know."

Annabeth and I sat at opposite ends of our room's couch, cans of soda in our hands. Names and numbers scrolled past on the TV. Ours were there, second from the top of one column. Just below were Zoe and Avery, their time four seconds slower. Our names were listed in green, theirs in red.

"Zoe is lots of things," Annabeth said, "but for all the bad ones, she plays fair. I give her that."

"You two don't get along."

"We aren't bad," Annabeth said. "You should see her with Thalia. That's not getting along. Zoe and I are just… neutral."

"She said something. About you not having a good record with trusting people."

"She did?"

"Yeah, right before I finished. What did that mean?

Annabeth drummed the side of her drink, lips set in a hard line.

"It means that she's a jerk."

There was just one pair of names higher than ours. They weren't green. These names were in bright gold, the only two like it on the whole board: Mark Ladley, Kelli Empey.

"I didn't know she had a last name," I mumbled.

"What was that?"

"Just thinking about the two who beat us. They're the ones that attacked Zoe and Avery."

"You think?"

"I'm sure. I didn't recognize them from the opening ceremony, either. And look."

I pointed to a different column, three to the left of ours. In this one, both the top two teams were in green. In second place were Victoria and Po, which as happy as I was to see, wasn't what had my attention. The Proioxis that tried to gut us in the opening round were right there, winners in a completely different heat.

"Somebody's doing things behind the scenes," Annabeth said. "They're fiddling with the rules."

"But what do they get out of it?"

"I wish I knew."

We sat a while longer, sipping our sodas. There were only five columns instead of the six there should've been, with a big TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES message replacing the missing one. I searched for the names of my friends, feeling a lot better by the time I was done. Bianca and Thalia had won their heat, Nera and Kai finishing just behind them. The only names I didn't see were Angelo and Lulu, who must've been in the glitched-out column. I hoped it was only a display issue.

Eventually, when our soda cans were empty, Annabeth and I said goodnight and left to our rooms. After Hecate's warning last time, I wasn't expecting the dream.

"Percy!"

At first, I thought somebody had come into my room and woken me up. But my body felt too light, too untethered.

"Percy, over here! Can't you see me?"

I blinked, floated around, and found myself in a staring contest with a spectral kid at least a head shorter than me. My breath hitched.

"...Nico?"

He laughed. "Surprised? Usually I can't visit, but today I'm being sneaky. Don't tell my dad."

"But… What? Or I mean, how—"

"It's confusing, I know. Even I barely understand, and I'm a child of the Underworld as well as, y'know, dead. Easier not to explain it. I'll just show you."

He jammed a hand inside my stomach. Before I could react, we were flying sideways like an intangible letter H, flitting through any walls in our way.

Before I could even yelp we'd arrived in a room I'd never seen before.

There weren't any windows and the only door was shut. It could easily have been a cell, except in the center a hole fell away, gaping and black. The hole rotated slowly like a whirlpool of sludge. The closer you got to the center, the hazier it became, until the darkness seemed to fall away at the center, like a tunnel without an end.

"Feels comforting, huh?" Nico asked, pulling his hand out of my stomach.

I shivered. It felt like I was on a precipice— one wrong step would send me bungee jumping with a snapped line.

"Where are we, Nico? Where have you brought me?"

"Only about eight hundred feet from your room," Nico said. "We're still in Agon's compound, just a part you haven't seen."

I didn't know how I felt about that. "This thing has been that close this whole time? You know what, forget it, that isn't important. What's it for?"

Nico floated closer, sitting down at the circle's edge and submerging his toes, splashing them as if he was on the end of a dock. "I call it the Backdoor, but it doesn't have a name. This is Minos' toy. He needs it to bring his soldiers through, because as much as he pretends otherwise the Underworld doesn't run through his veins. It takes tricks like this for him to keep up. Not that I'm complaining. This path leads all the way down. Now that I've gotten the hang of it, sneaking through is as easy as breathing." He frowned. "Bad metaphor. You get the point."

It was nice to know I wasn't being paranoid. The portal really was as creepy as it seemed.

"You can use this anytime you want?" I asked.

"Sure. Sort of. If I got caught it probably wouldn't be any good, the Furies are pretty fed up with disobedient spirits by now. But don't worry, I'm sneaky. Elusive is my middle name."

"I'll ask Bianca if that's true."

Nico's good mood seemed to chip a little. "She wouldn't know."

"Don't tell me she forgot your middle name."

"Kind of, but it's not her fault." His face looked forlorn, shadowed like the room. "Drop it for now. I came to talk about something else. How is Bianca?"

"You're asking me? You could just talk to her."

Nico sighed. "I do. As often as she calls me. Think about it, though. If you were talking to your dead kid brother would you be honest? Or would you tell him what you thought he wanted to hear?"

"You think she's lying to you."

"I know she is, and I love her for it. But sometimes a guy needs the truth. I spent so long getting lied to, I'm pretty tired of hearing more, even the well-meaning ones."

I didn't want to give him a bad answer. I leaned back, thinking, and tried to tune out the low, sloshy groans emanating from the portal.

"She's upset," I said. "Not like she hides it most of the time. She misses you, and she despises Minos. She's determined to catch him. Until she does, she won't relax."

"Be honest. How bad is it?"

"I've seen her worse." I remembered her prisoner days, alone and disoriented and desperate. I pictured her face when Minos appeared in front of her at the opening ceremony. "She has a goal. I think that makes it easier. And I mean, once she catches Minos, who knows? Maybe she could reverse the trick he pulled."

But Nico only shook his head. "It doesn't work that way. Take it from me, I'd know. As soon as Minos pulled my soul out, that body wasn't mine anymore. And… can I be totally honest with you?

I nodded, and he took a deep breath.

"I don't know if I want to live again, Percy. Please don't give me that look. I'm already dead. It's just, adjusting to a whole new world, decades from everything I knew, with only my sister left? It sounds like so much work. Maybe that's the ghost in me talking, but I'm tired of struggling. I fought so hard, now I just want to rest. The only thing I regret is leaving Bianca alone." He looked up, meeting my eyes. "Only, she won't be alone, will she? Promise me this. When I stay gone, you'll still be with her, and all the rest of her friends. Promise that she won't be alone."

"Not for as long I'm alive," I said. "I can't speak for the rest of the Bronze Regiment, but I know they'd say the same."

Nico smiled a relieved little smile, for once looking his age. "That's what I thought, but I needed to hear it."

We both went quiet. I'm not sure how long the silence lasted. Nico seemed lost in thought, and I was trying to make my mind up over something. When I finally made my decision, I didn't give myself time to second-guess.

Nico glanced up as I settled down beside him, my own spectral legs dipping into the portal like his.

"Careful," he warned. "Even I don't know what'll happen if you fall in."

I resisted the urge to yank my legs back. "Now you tell me."

He shrugged. "I didn't think you'd actually get this close. You're braver than I thought."

I took a deep breath. Brave. Right, Percy, channel brave thoughts. Hercules facing Cerberus. Odysseus entering Troy. Hoping that fart in class is silent.

"Has Bianca… mentioned anything about a plan?"

"She wants to open a cupcake shop."

"Not that, I'm talking about— she does?"

"Mhm." Nico bobbed his head. "She likes cupcakes."

"How come I never knew that? Wait, I'm getting distracted. What about a plan to do with, well, me?"

"Not that I remember. Although… She was asking questions about summoning spirits. Not spirits like me that died recently, but specific ones. Ones who have been dead for years."

I swallowed. "And?"

"I told her it's possible. By now, she's probably figured out how. She knows our powers as well as I ever did."

"Hey, Nico," I said. "Say, theoretically, you had the chance to speak to someone you lost when you were young. Somebody close to you, as close as anyone ever was."

"Like a parent?" Nico asked, pausing strangely.

"Something like that. Would you take the chance?"

"I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be thinking about. Of course I would."

"What if they aren't happy to see you?"

"If you were that close, they will be."

"What if they don't like the person you've become?"

"Then change, or move on. The dead can't hold back the living— only the living can do that."

"You know, you're pretty wise for a kid."

He laughed. "Ouch. Is that the thanks I get?"

"Whatever," I said. "I was just asking for fun anyway. Don't worry about it."

"If you say so."

It was hard to tell time in dreams, but we sat for what felt like hours. It was strangely peaceful in that dark room. The low sounds for the portal were deep and consistent. The air was cool and heavy. I felt like I could've slipped into a meditation, which is crazy considering my ADD brain.

"You should go."

I jolted, turning toward Nico. He didn't look away from the portal. His head was rocking listlessly, side to side.

"Minos is heading this way," he explained. "I don't think he can do anything to you, but I don't want to test it."

"Is he close?"

"Not yet. But there's no reason to leave it to chance."

He drifted out, hovering over the center of the portal. Before he could leave, I called out to him.

"Nico. Thanks."

He looked down. "Save it. If anything, you're the one helping me."

He started to disappear. I could feel the dream fading, and floated to my feet. "Bye, Nico."

I thought he was smiling, just a little. "Bye, Percy."

I woke up.

The transition was more abrupt than usual. I jolted, eyes opening. It was morning. My chest felt heavy, and I brought a hand up to touch it. The feeling inside wasn't horrible; I just couldn't shake the suspicion that I'd said a pretty permanent goodbye.

The terse voice made me jump: "Do you have to remind yourself of your body after every sleep? How ridiculous. What a toddler."

Hygeia looked identical to when we met, down to the disdain in her eyes.

"Do you make a habit of standing over little boys while they sleep?"

Hygeia sniffed. "Get dressed. The patrons are here."

"Patrons? What's that supposed to mean?"

She blew from the room like she hadn't heard my question, wearing a fixed frown.

So that was how it was going to be. Well, if she wanted to be difficult so would I. Pulling the covers off slowly, I got dressed piece by piece. What was the worst that could happen, getting a goddess angry?

As it turned, out I didn't upset one goddess. I pissed off three.

Hygeia had changed our room's layout. The couch was gone, the recliner pushed into a corner. A fancy, oaken table had appeared in the space they left, surrounded on both sides by chairs. One side had three lush cushiony seats, while two stiff wooden chairs faced them. Annabeth was in a wooden seat. The spot next to her was the only seat open, three beings filling the others.

"What was the delay?" Hygeia demanded.

"I'm not a morning person." I forced my eyes off our guests, giving a standing Hygeia my best winning smile. "Sorry."

"Do you realize who you've made wait? I should–"

"Hygeia," said one of the guests, a big woman in a golden tracksuit. A dozen victory medals hung around her neck. Victoria's mom, Nike. "Be a dear and shut up now."

Hygeia flinched. "I was just making sure he knew what he'd done."

"And I just don't care," Nike said with a sigh. "He might be late, but the only thing your useless words are doing is making everything later."

"I… Of course, Nike."

Hygeia went stiff and tried to shrink into the corner. Nike turned to me.

"Sit, Percy," she commanded. "We must decide how we will win."

I took the seat beside Annabeth. "Nice to meet you too."

"I have no use for pleasantries," said the goddess. "They are time wasted. Listen well so I won't need to repeat myself. In the next round, you will partner with me."

"Not so fast!" said another of the guests, the woman sitting to Nike's left. "Nothing is decided. They'll partner with any one of us."

She was impressive in her own right, with beautiful porcelain features and pale skin like churned-up seafoam. Her eyes shined with the spark of storm clouds. Nike still looked at her like she was dog poop wedged in the grooves of her running shoes.

"You think you could help them defeat my chosen?" There was nothing nice about the smile she wore. "Be reasonable, Kymopleia, or at least be quiet."

Kymopleia snarled, shifting in her seaweed-green dress. "Not all of us are as spineless as Hygeia. Speak to me like that again, Nike, and you'll find yourself at the bottom of a whirlpool."

In the corner, Hygeia's knuckles were squeezed taut. Annabeth leaned forward, placing her palms on the table.

"What exactly is a patron?" she asked. "Does it have to do with the next task?"

It was the last of the three guests that answered her, a cloaked satyr as thin and shaky as a dying Aspen.

"The Nemean Games are next," he said raspily. "A race, but so much more than that. It is the spectators' only chance to leave our mark!"

"He means we will be providing the chariots and steeds," Nike explained. "Each god or spirit will choose a duo to sponsor. And, when I win, Agon will owe me a personal favor."

"No!" cried the satyr. "I will be the winner!"

"Silence, fallen faun," Nike said harshly. "You're lucky you were allowed in the room. Don't make me remind you what nothing you are."

"You cannot harm him," Hygeia said. "That is the rule."

Nike smirked, tapping a fingernail against one of the medals hanging from her neck. "Rules only matter until I win, Hygeia. Afterward, I have a great memory for who tried to use them against me."

Hygeia, Kymopleia, and the satyr all looked like they wanted to curse her out, but they didn't. They were scared to, unless they won and had Agon at their backs.

"I didn't expect a favor from Agon to mean this much," I said.

"It shouldn't." Annabeth was looking between the possible patrons slowly, trying to puzzle them out. "He isn't weak, but he isn't that powerful."

"For now," Nike said.

"Things change fast," Kymopleia said, baring her teeth. "Just like weather at sea."

"Choose!" The satyr suddenly rocked to his feet. The cloak he wore slipped back, revealing graying brown hair and a rough unshaven beard. "I am not like these goddesses! This is not a trifle or something I am doing for fun, it's my last chance! I will not wait to hear which patron you pick!"

Hygeia was immediately at his side, appearing there without walking. "You will wait. You three are not the only patrons after them, only the first batch."

Annabeth, meanwhile, was staring at the satyr's exposed face. "I know you! You're Maron. You were a cloven elder."

"Was!" Maron wailed. He was relaxing a little, though. He allowed Hygeia to lower him into his seat without a fight. "What do you mean, was? I still am! We've come by some hard times, sure, but I haven't forgotten! I will fix this!"

"You disappeared," Annabeth said. "All three of you, without leaving a trace. Where are your brothers?"

"They gave in to him," Maron said. "They bowed their heads and tucked their tails. Not me. I'll bring them to their senses, all of them. I'll win this event, and then I'll–"

A crack cut him off, like a starter's pistol but a dozen times louder. Nike lowered her fingers, lightly smoking.

"I've neither time nor patience for his life's story," she said blandly. "He had only one thing correct: it is time for you to choose. It should be easy. You have the best option in front of you, the very embodiment of victory."

She preened as if she wasn't the one complimenting herself. I looked to Annabeth, wondering what to say, but we never had to decide.

"I repeat," Hygeia said, "not all patrons have made their case. If you three are finished, please make space for the next batch."

Nike glared. "Is that necessary?"
"Yes." Hygeia wouldn't meet her gaze. She was trembling, but she kept it to the tips of her fingers so Nike wouldn't see. "Agon's rules," she added, after a short pause.

It was a long, silent moment before Nike rose from her chair. "Very well," Nike said. She addressed me and Annabeth. "I will see you soon, if you are not fools."

That began a long day of pitches and promises and immortal bickering. When Nike, Kymopleia and Maron left, three more spirits and minor gods took their place. After that batch came three more. It kept on until the faces and names blended together, ten or more groups having passed through. The only constants were the table, the room, and Hygeia lurking in the corner, moving to bring in and see out groups whenever the time came.

I've never been the best with names, but I couldn't shake the feeling that each group was less important than the last. The second and third groups were all minor deities, the ones after nature spirits and nymphs, and so on until I didn't recognize a single name. When the last group finally left and Hygeia came back alone, I let my head drop to the table with an exhausted sigh.

"I never knew being courted was so tiring," I said. "If I have to hear one more brag about how fast a naiad's dolphins are, I'm going to end up asleep from boredom."

Annabeth mashed her foot down on mine, making me wince.

"Don't you go all Endymion on me now," she said. "I'm not deciding this all alone."

Hygeia was still in the room, staring at us. I didn't feel any of the disdain she usually gave off, though. If anything she looked as tired as I felt. Maybe more.

"You two should be grateful," she said. "No other duo had as many offers as you did."

"Why?" I said. "We barely made it through the last round."

"I wouldn't know," Hygeia said dully. "I'm just the housekeeper, after all. However… I suppose they see potential in you. You were on course to win the last round if you hadn't helped your opponents. Some respect your integrity, and the ones who see it as a weakness believe they can train it out of you."

I stared at her from where my head rested on the table. She sniffed, staring at the floor.

"That's only a guess, though. What would the housekeeper know?"

Annabeth brushed a strand of hair out of her face, eyes thoughtful. "Can any immortal become a patron?"

"Theoretically, so long as they agree."

"What about limits? Can patrons make multiple offers?"

"If you turn them down they can move onto others, yes. I can't say that will keep them from holding a grudge though."

"You hate them," I realized, lifting up my head.

It wasn't just Nike's harassment or Kymopleia's off-hand insults. The nymphs and spirits had barely spared her a glance. Like she wasn't a god at all, just a helpful patch of air.

"I could say that I do or I could say that I don't," Hygeia said. "It hardly matters when they care so little for what I think."

I wanted to ask more but a stinging cut me off. Something warm was burning against my thigh. Somebody was trying to reach me through my sun pendant.

"I gotta take a call," I said, rising. "Bad timing, I know."

"What about choosing a patron?" Annabeth protested.

"It'll be quick. Promise."

I heard Hygeia assuring Annabeth that we had a day to decide, and then I'd ducked into my bedroom, drawing out the charm.

"You were this excited to tell me more about your past?" I asked.

There was no answer at first, which seemed kind of rude considering Daedalus called first. Then his voice came through, crisp and serious.

"There is a problem, Percy," Daedalus said. "Kate has disappeared, and not only that, she has been busy. I'm sorry to say, you have been robbed."

I would never say I hate my life, but the fact that I was mostly surprised that someone had found something of mine to steal did make me a little sad. Still, it was true. Aelia was still in my pocket, the clothes I'd left behind were all ordinary, and I didn't own much else. Unless…

"Andi's cups," I said.

"Indeed." Daedalus hesitated. "They were a gift from your teacher, no? I'm sorry. We should have watched over them better."

I took a deep breath. I wasn't as angry as I expected to be. The bronze silverware had saved my life in the past, but it wasn't like they were all I had to remember my teacher by. Every time I used my spear was enough for that.

Still, I left them behind because I was worried something might happen to them. I never guessed they would be in more danger because of it. I took a seat on my bed, rubbing my face with my free hand.

"You said she disappeared. How?"

"It started small," Daedalus said. "No one would see her for an hour at first, then for two. This began soon after your mission. It was suspicious, but there was no proof she was doing anything wrong, and she always reappeared. Then, today, she left a note saying she wasn't coming back. Soon after, the theft was discovered."

"And nobody, I don't know, caught her sneaking away? This is the Titan's stronghold we're talking about. She was under watch from the day she showed up."

"Nothing," Daedalus said. "Emmitt asked for my help, but I'm afraid I'm as clueless as he is. She simply vanished like magic."

"Great." The hand rubbing my face pressed harder, dragging the skin in taught circles. "I don't mean to be a backseat rebellion driver, but that seems like a major security leak."

Suspected spies weren't supposed to be able to slip away whenever they felt like it. She even left a goodbye note for Kronos' sake.

"I suppose it does," Daedalus said.

"You don't sound too worried."

I could almost hear him shrug. "It isn't my head Kronos will be after for this. As long as you aren't too upset about the theft, I don't see a reason to pull my hair out."

"Maybe I am upset," I said. "For all you know, I could be crying my eyes out over here. But I know something that would cheer me up."

"I feel that you're implying you want to hear more of my life. You are wrong, by the way. Those stories won't make anyone feel better, not even Minos."

"That won't stop me from guilt-tripping you into telling me more."

"Apparently," Daedalus said ruefully. "Fine, though. I suppose I did make a promise. I assume you're in a position to listen?"

"As cozy as a Telekhine in a forge."

"Good, good. I suppose I should start where I left off, then."

"That tends to be how stories work."

"Yes, where I left off. Let's see…"

"You were just about to build the Labyrinth," I said. "I think you knew that, though. Quit stalling."

He didn't argue, which is how I knew I'd caught him in the act.

"To many, the Labyrinth is my greatest creation," Daedalus said. "I personally consider it the worst, but even I cannot deny how impressive it can be. Most assume its construction would have taken months, possibly years, but that isn't the case. In truth, the creation was only ever half mine. By that time there was evil on the island of Crete, and in the palace especially. Old grudges, divine and mortal, had seeped into the stone and earth. I gave it direction, and the evil did the rest. Soon a thousand tunnels lay like roots inside the Earth."

Daedalus chuckled darkly. "At the time I pretended not to know what I had done. It was a jail, I told myself, and nothing more, but even then a part of me was aware. When the Minotaur was imprisoned and the first Athenian victims were brought, I was high above ground, waterlogging my worries with wine."

I kept quiet, giving him time if he needed it, but after a breath he was going again, like the only thing more painful than telling the story was lingering on it.

"I went on like that for… four years? Five? Too long, in any case. Rather than fix the problems I created, I ran from them. I've always been skilled at that."

"Something stopped you," I said.

He chuckled, the sound sending throbs of warmth through the charm. "Something did, yes. Eventually. But at this time I only figured out a better way to run. I met my wife."

"She was a servant in the palace, a distant cousin to Minos. He's the one who sent her to me, determined to get his sloppy drunken inventor back into shape by any means necessary. Ah, I didn't know that at the time, though. I was a bit desperate back then. We were wed quickly, and she was pregnant soon after. Her name was Myrinna."

"You've never talked about her."

"I barely can," Daedalus admitted. "I can't remember her mannerisms, her voice, not even her face. I believe she had brown hair, but I can't be sure. We were married less than a year. She died, I'm afraid. Complications in the birth of Icarus, our first and only child. In a sick way, her death brought me back to life. Even I was not callous enough to drink myself stupid with a son at home. I was all he had, so I had no choice but to be something worth having."

I'd always thought he did a good job raising a crazy kid like me all by himself. I never guessed it was because he had experience.

The words were coming easier now, flowing out. Daedalus sounded as happy as I'd heard him. "Icarus was a bright boy– curious, excitable, clever. He had the servants wrapped around his finger before he could walk. You should have seen time he stole every loaf of bread from the kitchens, or when he climbed the tallest tree on the grounds simply to prove the gardener wrong. I loved that boy, and for some inexplicable reason, he loved me back. I decided it while he was young: I would teach him everything he cared to know, and build him whatever he could want. Anything for him."

"I wish I could've met him," I said.

"I, for one, do not." Daedalus sniffed. "Wonderful little forces of chaos, the both of you. But if your powers united nothing would be left standing."

He sounded serious, but I could hear the humor in his words. There was a lull, and I couldn't shake the feeling Daedalus was picturing it— his student and his son together, as impossible as it was pretty to imagine.

"Eventually," Daedalus said, picking his story up again, "news of our private lessons got out. I blame the servants. They were all awful gossips. Minos didn't bother us, he was probably hoping Icarus would take after me and a second golden goose would spring up in his henhouse. The only problem was when a certain nosy princess caught wind of us and decided she wanted in."

"Princess…" I cast my mind back, ticking off names from myth after myth, trying to pull out the right one. Minos and Pasiphae had four daughters: Xenodice, Acacallis, Phaedra, and— "Ariadne."

"She was only a few years older than Icarus," Daedalus said. "The two always got along well. Normally retainers' children weren't allowed near the royalty, but Minos really did want to keep in Icarus' good graces. I couldn't have been happier with their friendship. Ariadne was kind in all the ways her father was not. In my near-immortal life, I don't believe I've met a more empathetic soul."

"I don't get it," I admitted. "If you liked Ariadne, and her dad was okay with it, why was teaching her a problem?"

"Minos was alright with friendship," Daedalus said, "but that didn't mean he needed his daughter learning the things which I could teach. What use is mathematics and logic, when a princess can be learning to weave and flirt? I should be grateful that he's a simpleminded fool considering it's let me escape him for so long, but at the time it was vexing."

"Did you teach her?"

"Of course. If anything, the resistance made me more eager. We only had to do things a bit more sneakily. Somewhere out of the way, dirty enough that Minos wouldn't dare step foot inside. Perhaps with a permanent aroma of horse poop on the air…"

"The stables!" I said. "That's why you wanted to teach there at Mt. Othrys!"

Daedalus laughed. "Guilty. I was being nostalgic, I know, but the chance to look back on one of the truly good times in my life was too much to resist."

He quieted, and when his voice came back, it was tentative. Heavy.

"Don't make me go further," he said. "I'll tell you more, but please, let's leave it here for today."

I knew enough about his past to know what was coming next. Theseus, the string, Icarus's fall. I wasn't going to push him.

"Alright," I said. "I promised Annabeth I wouldn't take too long, anyway."

"...Annabeth?"

I almost groaned. It was easy to forget how little I'd actually told Daedalus about the games. In as few words as possible without leaving anything out, I explained the partner system and how I'd reunited with Annabeth down in the maze.

"Be careful," he warned when I was done.

"I won't let any secrets slip," I promised.

"Secrets? I'm telling the sheltered boy I raised not to let himself be wooed too easily."

I could feel the heat in my cheeks. "Shut up. I'm not that sheltered."

"Of course you aren't," he said knowingly. "Though, on a more serious note…"

"What is it?"

"Think for a moment. What are the odds that you run into your childhood friend in the Labyrinth? At the exact moment you're each alone?"

"I don't know what you think, but there's no way Annabeth orchestrated that," I said. "She didn't even have Ariadne's string. We were both lost."

"Just because she didn't plan it, doesn't mean that it wasn't planned. There's something suspicious here, Percy."

I remembered the first thing Annabeth said when I met her. Illusions had hounded her and Thalia, driving them apart. But I never told Daedalus about that. If he was this suspicious, there had to be something else I was missing.

"You know something," I said.

He sighed, sounding sad and weary. "Know may be too strong a word, but I have my suspicions. There are too many coincidences, and they all started with Kate."

"What about her?" I knew the girl was probably a spy, and a strange one at that. But this seemed like more.

"Her appearance," Daedalus said. "I don't mean the way she arrived at Mt. Orthrys, although that was strange too. I mean the way she looked. When I laid eyes on her, my heart nearly stopped."

"But why?"

"Because," he said, "she was identical to a young Ariadne. Down to the smallest, most inconsequential details. It was as if my memories had been plucked from my head and brought to stand in front of me."

I remembered the first time Daedalus saw Kate. The way he had frozen completely. He shrugged it off then, probably assuming it was a coincidence. But as things got stranger and stranger, he couldn't ignore it any longer.

"You think Kate could be a goddess," I said. "Someone old enough to have seen Ariadne, with the ability to make themselves look like her."

"I don't know what to think," Daedalus said, "other than that you should be very, very careful."

Careful and me have never mixed well. But I told him I'd do my best.

"On that note, then, I believe I've kept you long enough. I wouldn't want your first girlfriend mad at you because of me."

"Annabeth isn't—" The charm was already cold in my palm. I groaned, rolling my eyes to the ceiling.

Who cared about things like safety and crucial information, I should never have told him about my partner. It was way too much ammunition for teasing.

Rising, I headed for the living room, wondering if I'd need to come up with an excuse about the call. I didn't make it past the door.

The handle stuck fast when I tried to turn it, as if locked from the outside. I pulled harder but it wouldn't budge. I raised a hand to pound on the wood when a voice said, "Don't waste your energy. They won't hear a thing no matter how hard you try."

I flipped around in under a second. Another second and Anfisa formed in my hand. The uninvited guest was sitting cross-legged on the center of my bed, inches from where I'd just been. A sleeveless black dress pooled around her, showing off shoulders as pale as her face. Black eyes watched me intently.

"Hello again, Percy," Hecate said. "Won't you take a seat?"

(-)