II

Phil told them to whistle while they worked.

Jack had never been so scared to whistle. Knowing his luck, Apollo would want to wreak vengeance on Jack for killing Apollo's favorite son. If Jack so much as meeped, all the squirrels in the forest would probably be stricken with sickness and rain from the trees.

While clutching Ryan's sheet-wrapped ankles, stumbling through the near-darkness of the forest, seeing the ghostly gold glow of Luke's blond hair as Luke gripped Ryan's wrists ahead, Jack had to wonder if Flynn was having as much luck on her first mission.

Go to recruit someone?

Kill someone instead.

Phil seemed to think they were equivalent.

"It was a good preemptive shot. This guy would have never turned to Kronos' side, so you deprived the Greeks of a great healer." Phil trotted beside them. "And you did it when everyone was shouting at the campfire, so no one could hear. Had Luke and I not been coming over to check up on you, we'd have never known. You've got some natural talent here, kid." He gave Jack's cheek an affectionate nudge before returning to Ryan's bag of belongings.

The satyr had already pocketed Ryan's ID, spare cash, and spare drachma. When Luke demanded why they needed to spend the time to gather all of Ryan's things, Phil said, "People are less likely to see what's no longer there."

Pain ached through Jack's hands, back, and bruised knee. He wanted to ask Luke if the older boy was alright, but Luke had been terrifyingly quiet during the whole walk. Once, Luke mentioned he could sometimes hear Kronos' voice when he wasn't sleeping. Jack feared Kronos and Luke were talking at that very moment, discussing how to get rid of a troublesome new recruit.

What Luke said, instead, make Jack jump. "Dryad incoming. Phil, take the reigns."

By "reigns," Luke meant "dead dude's hands."

After an awkward second of musical chairs with a corpse, Luke separated and ran ahead, into the trees. Jack couldn't see what Luke had been talking about, but heard Luke switch his charming voice on, "Oh! Hey, Juniper! Too late? Nah. Curfew couldn't keep me away from your beautiful branches."

There was giggling, some hushed conversation, then a sudden rustling of foliage and more giggling. If Jack had to guess, Luke was playing a game of chase with the dryad, luring her away from their destination.

Confusion crept over Jack's mind about Luke and Juniper's interaction and he wanted to ask Phil about it. He was scared this was his typical misunderstanding of the world: where he heard things that didn't happen or made facts real that weren't. But, Flynn, Luke, and Phil said everything he heard was real. After all, the monsters were real.

And anything would be better than focusing on the upturned, inch-long curve along the sheets that must have been Ryan's wrapped nose. One edge of the sheet had untucked and swayed ominously with each uncoordinated step. Jack was terrified a gust of wind would rip it open, revealing Ryan's stare. Worse: it would be the same stare that his parents had when he found their bodies.

"I thought Luke was dating Ms. Beauregard?" Jack said softly.

Phil snorted. "If Luke were a god, he'd keep a scoreboard against Zeus. [footnote 1] That's why I'm hoping we can get that Thalia girlie back soon. She'll set him straight."

Jack tore his gaze from Ryan's covered face and to the back of Phil's head. At camp, the satyr didn't wear any clothing, so this scene could have been taken out of a Greek play. "So, Thalia is like Luke's Flynn," Jack rationalized. "What was Thalia like?"

Phil shrugged, making Ryan's body tilt. "Don't know. Luke won't talk to me much about her."

That was weird. All Jack wanted to do was talk and sing and gawk over how awesome Flynn was. But, would Jack think that way if she'd been turned into a tree? She'd almost died once protecting him. What if she actually had?

His shivers increased, making Jack almost lose his hold on Ryan's ankles. He wanted to ask how much further this "Labyrinth" entrance was. His parents always taught him it was rude to ask such questions.

The more he was learning, the less he ought to care what his parents had to say.

"Hey, uh, don't mind Luke, with him swatting you and all," Phil said. At first, Jack didn't know what Phil was talking about. Then he remembered the slight ache at the back of his skull, where Luke had smacked Jack for screaming. It wasn't the first time someone had smacked Jack for being confus—not for being confused. Jack wasn't confused. He had to keep reminding himself.

"Luke's under a lot of pressure. He's still mad about losing the Master Bolt to Ares—he's looking at it as his second failed quest. Then, this Poseidon punk comes in, fulfilling his little sister's dream of going on a quest and taking his satyr along on that quest—" Jack vaguely remembered Luke mentioning that his friends, Annabeth and Grover, weren't around. "—and proves to be as powerful a pain in the ass as everyone thought he would be. He resisted Kronos' pull into Tartarus…"

Phil sighed. He let go of one of Ryan's wrists, letting it dangle limply along the ground, so Phil could make a flippant gesture. "Rumors are betting that Percy can survive having Ares come after him. If he does, that means Luke needs to either recruit or kill Percy, and, I mean, the kid's under a lot of pressure. I don't think that Luke's killed someone in cold blood before. He's not ready to start."

In cold blood. Is that what Jack had done to Ryan? Or was that a murder of passion? He couldn't remember if there was a difference.

Phil must have noticed Jack's lack of answer. He waved his free hand dismissively again. It looked like the first motions of a musical number with Phil's fingers reaching towards the sky and Ryan's fingers trailing the tree trunks and ferns. "Listen to this old goat chatter. How're you and Flynn doing? I heard you two lovebirds managed to score a room together."

The tease in Phil's tone made Jack blush up at the sky. He let the gentle tug of Ryan's ankles direct his shambles, hoping he wouldn't misstep and trip onto the body. Goofiness made his insides flutter away from their current activity and back to that morning, allowing him the tiniest bit of disassociated respite. Although they had been aboard the Princess Andromeda for awhile, sharing a room with Flynn made him giddy, especially waking and looking across their cabin to see her curled up on her cot or doing morning stretches.

"I don't think boys and girls are supposed to share a room, but Flynn is really good at working around the rules," Jack said. It took her all of ten seconds to convince Luke about the arrangement.

"A charm speaker getting her way? No," Phil teased, "Luke just has a soft spot for you."

"Really?" Jack asked. He assumed Luke thought he was a nuisance, especially when he screwed up like he had today.

Phil laughed. Jack couldn't help but feel like he'd missed out on a joke. "Oh, kid. You're funny. I'll bet its nice sharing a room with a daughter of Aphrodite. Makes it easier not having to sneak around your local pastor or teacher, huh?"

Jack glanced down to see Phil quarter turn and wink at him.

Then, the satyr walked into a branch.

Phil cursed in ancient Greek. Jack only caught every few words. The other demigods said he'd catch on quicker to the language the more he heard it.

Heat spread through Jack's cheeks. He'd accidentally—or, he at least thought it was accidentally on Flynn's part—walked into the room when she'd been changing. He always knocked and announced himself, but she must not have heard him. Now, he knew she either wore boy shorts or thongs, depending on the pair of pants, and a double layer of sport bras to keep her chest contained for fighting.

He had seen her bras once before, the day she saved him from a monster at school. She almost died by goring. At the time, he'd been too focused on keeping her alive to be flustered over how her tan skin looked against the dark grey fabric.

But, he wasn't about to say any of that to Phil.

"Uh—we don't—we haven't—" Jack sputtered. "She only is—um—with guys that she can command—" What had Phil called it? "—that she can charm speak."

Phil stopped walking beside a giant pile of rocks. They seemed to creep up out of the forest. The moonlight had easier access to them now, making Ryan's bed sheet glow. "Not that you would know, but she never charm speaks you?"

Jack's arms shook. Until they stopped moving, he hadn't noticed how heavy the corpse was. Maybe that was Ryan's vengeance: getting heavier with each step, the subtlest of haunting. He tried to focus on the image of Flynn's face instead of Ryan's white sheet.

"She knows she doesn't have to." Even if Jack sometimes wished she would. "I would do anything she wants. I would die for her. For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings, that then I scorn to change my state with kings."[footnote 2]

The first time Jack had quoted that to her, she'd socked him good in the arm. Last time, she had snuggled against that arm. Jack swooned to think about the warmth of her against him.

Although it would be much easier with how stationary they were, Phil didn't look at him. "Would you kill for her? Like this? All over again?"

Jack's trembling became violent, jittering Ryan around like a game of Hungry Hungry Hippos. No matter how hard he focused, he couldn't remember the feel of Ryan's squirms, or the way his struggles had eased. Why was that memory so blurred? Wasn't it supposed to scar itself into his mind forever? "Yes," Jack said, "But I'm not very good at it."

Maybe he shouldn't be good at it. Though, was it bad if he was? If there was one thing he had learned from his pastor, it was that everyone had a purpose. Maybe they did in the Greek world. What if his purpose here, the thing he was good at, was—

"I think you're a real natural. It's a pity you can't drag her uncle out of Tartarus. I'd love to see how you'd kill him," Phil said.

"What?" Jack asked. Had he heard Phil wrong? Flynn had never told Jack about anyone other than her grandmother, and a quick explanation that her father died when she was a toddler. Drug overdose. Why she kept Mr. Sunny, his weekly medicine box, instead of letting Jack carry it around.

Instead of answering, Phil said, "Help an old goat toss a body, would ya?"

Phil made a big show of groaning and swearing as he gestured to a crack between the rocks.

The slit would have been invisible if Phil hadn't pointed it out. The slit of darkness was so narrow, Jack doubted Ryan would fit inside.

"So, we just shove him back there?" Jack asked.

"Yep. A monster will creep through this part of the Labyrinth and get a free snack. Think of it like… you're giving some lucky fellow a winning lottery ticket or feeding the homeless," Phil said.

They propped Ryan's body against the rock façade, so Phil and Jack could awkwardly shove him through the opening. It would have been easier for someone living to crawl through, especially since Ryan's body was stiffening and jerked occasionally. Jack told himself it was just his imagination. He was used to ignoring weird details like that, like the absolute sense of calm he kept getting from seeing a dead sibling.

They shoved Ryan's upper torso through with little problem. The legs were more difficult, requiring Phil to swear and jam and twist them.

There was a sickening crack from one leg and something gave.

Jack tried not to scream.

None of it bothered Phil. [footnote 3] He kept pushing. Jack's last sensation of Ryan was the leather of Ryan's shoe. Then his dead half-sibling disappeared into the blackness of the crack. And that was it.

Phil had been right. The Labyrinth—whatever it was—seemed to eat him immediately.

With that finality, exhaustion overtook Jack. He collapsed onto the ground outside the entrance, expecting Ryan's corpse to squirm back through, clawing out of his white sheet.

Nothing.

There was something chilly in his hands that burned against his blisters.

Jack held it up, finding the guitar string still wrapped around one palm. He must have trailed it all the way from the cabin, parallel to how Phil had let Ryan's hand drag.

Phil frowned down at him, leaning against the rock wall. "You should keep it, as a memento or whatever sentimental shit mortals do."

Jack swallowed. Slowly, he tied the cord around his wrist like a bracelet. It bit into his skin. He tried not to think of how that would feel around the neck.

Phil sighed. "Listen, kid. Ryan really did need to die regardless. But, you can't go around killing all your problems. That's some old-school hero mentality and it isn't 2,000 BC anymore. Next time you get upset, take a few breathes and come talk to Uncle Phil." He pointed a thumb to himself. "We'll discuss if you can or can't kill the person. And then…" He pointed that thumb towards the Labyrinth entrance. "Uncle Phil can help you with the body and throw a party afterwards."

Jack nodded. He remembered his mother fussing over his association with Flynn, saying she was a bad influence. She would have called the SWAT team on Phil.

Someone burst out of the woods, making Jack jump and Phil let out a quick shriek.

"Holy Hera, kid, learn to announce yourself! It's not like we were just petting puppies over here!" Phil snapped, clutching at his chest.

Luke was mid-pulling his shirt back over his head. He combed his fingers through his hair, which looked silvery in the moonlight. Twigs and leaves fell out of the blond and joined the bits on his shirt and pants. He looked much more relaxed than the panic he'd left with. "Everything taken care of?" he asked.

Jack stumbled to his feet and tried to answer. But, "yes" couldn't be the answer, could it? He'd just killed someone. That wasn't just "taken care of," was it?

Phil stood up straight and patted Jack's back. He slung an arm over Jack's shoulder, dragging him forward so he could sling his other arm around Luke. The satyr was much shorter than the two boys. "I was just telling Jack that he needs to take the initiative if his girlie is dropping him all these hints. Wouldn't you agree, Luke?"

Luke's blue eyes darted from the Labyrinth entrance back to Jack. Jack wished Phil were a bit taller, so he couldn't see Luke's critical stare. When Phil tried to corral them forward, Luke wouldn't budge.

Phil sighed. "And, I'm thinking we need a little celebration. Jack took out Camp Half-Blood's up-and-coming healer that would have never converted. Beers are on me, kids."

That broke Jack's attention. He felt the color drained out of his face. "I'm too young to drink." And his medicine wasn't suppose to mix with alcohol.

Almost to himself, Phil muttered, "Kid who committed murder doesn't want to break the law. He's too young, he says." He stared up at Jack, skeptically. "You know, your ancestors were drinking before they came out of their mother's skirts."

"Didn't you just say I shouldn't be acting like them?" Jack asked, unsure what Phil wanted from him.

Although Luke tried to hide it, he cracked a smile at Phil's exacerbation.

"Alright! Fine. Shirley Temples on me, you little brats," Phil grumbled. "Luke, that little dryad of yours suspect anything?"

Luke took a step forward with Phil. "Juniper has no idea you guys were here."

The way Luke talked about the dryad unsettled Jack. Yea, Flynn had been with other guys when Jack was crushing on her and writing her songs. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd go off with other guys now that they were dating, but Flynn wouldn't hide it from him. Jack had to wonder if Ms. Juniper and Ms. Beauregard knew about each other.

Phil led them away from camp, further into the woods. "I know a great bar we can go to. We'll get the centaurs to take us. We'll be done in a flash, that way, Luke, you can be back and acting all menacing or whatever. Ha! It's not like you're going to be sleeping—"

Luke made a face. Jack remembered Phil mentioning something about nightmares. Was Luke still having them?

"—and I'll take Jak-Jak back to camp, and he can take our advice on his girlie. What do you think, Luke? Should he take the initiative or no?"

Luke took another glance behind them, where the rock pile had disappeared in the trees. He frowned. For a moment, Jack thought Luke might turn to him with the same disgusted disappointment Steve, his step-father, had when Steve had to pick up Jack from school. Those were the days when Jack had "an incident" as Steve called them, when Jack's paranoia and confusion left him sobbing in a corner.

Instead, the consternation in Luke's expression faded. He brushed some dirt off his pants. "She's really into you. I'd say to go for it."

Just like that, they were talking about girls instead of bodies. Being a half-blood was weird.

"See, Jak-Jak—oh! Hold on!" Phil dramatically tilted his ear to listen. He lifted his hands off their shoulders in a flourish. "I have important satyr things I must attend to, else old Mr. Douche Bag might get suspicious. But, uh, you kids go have some fun on your own."

He fished the money he'd stolen from Ryan and shoved it into Luke's hands. Jack hadn't realized that Phil intended to celebrate Ryan's murder with Ryan's own money. Jack couldn't decide if that was efficient, horrifying, or both. "The centaurs can still take you and I can swing by to pick up Jack in two hours. Now, kids, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

A sentiment that, from Phil, must have meant nothing. [footnote 4]

He waggled a finger at them.

With that, he dashed off into the trees.

They walked in silence for the first fifteen paces.

Jack didn't realize he'd been slowly tightening the guitar string around his wrist. The metal didn't want to stay taught.

This felt like the times his parents had shoved Jack onto Shelby or Aston, his two little siblings. They would whine, not wanting to babysit their older brother. One time, when Shelby wanted to talk to one of her friends instead, she told Jack they were going to play hide and seek, then locked him in a closet. "To protect you from the monsters."

"Look… dude," Luke said, breaking the silence. "I meant to check up on you and Flynn sooner. It's been busy. And I can't decide if I want this Percy kid to survive or not, and he keeps doing stuff we didn't predict. It's just been complicated, you know?"

An hour ago, Jack wouldn't have. Now, he thought about what Phil said, about Luke's best friends favoring Percy, about Kronos punishing Luke for stuff he couldn't control, and about how naturally talented Percy was rumored to be. Jack loosened the guitar string, examining the way it left deep, dark indents in his pale flesh.

"It's really hard when someone else has better luck than you. Especially here. 'Luck' must really be a product of some divine intervention, right?" Jack muttered. It means some god loves the luckiest the most. "I guess we gotta make our own luck, huh?"

Luke glanced at him, his blue eyes widened in surprise. "Yea. Yea, we do. Um… look, it's just… With your medication, your smile—you remind me of my—of someone I knew. Especially how you went from being a good kid to—to what happened back there."

Jack wasn't sure what Luke meant by the first part, but he knew what he was supposed to say. Queasiness clenched him. "I—I'm sorry. I've never done something like that before. I don't want to—"

The older boy awkwardly patted his shoulder. "No, dude, it's cool."

I'm not going to abandon you like the gods would. I'm not going to let them do to you what they did to her." Ferocity glinted in Luke's gaze. Desperation crept into his voice. "Phil said you're not actually crazy. This is reversible. That outburst—it was probably because you're weaning off your medication, right?"

As far as Jack knew, Flynn was giving him the same amount of medication that he'd been taking previously. There was no way to know if it was still working as well. He still heard voices, saw monsters, and felt an urgent wrongness that left him trembling with no known source. But, he was on a boat for monsters. His family was dead. He'd just found out that everything he knew—that he was crazy, that God loved him in a special way, that violence of any kind was abhorrent and should be punished—was wrong. Maybe that should have been in the demigod orientation program.

Jack didn't want to talk about it. "Is there a way to turn that Thalia girl back from being a tree?" he blurted. He hoped Luke wouldn't push it. Whomever he'd been referencing must have been personal to Luke, but Jack wanted an easy conversation. Too much had happened in the last few hours and Jack still wasn't comfortable with how calm he felt.

Luke smiled mischievously, looking more like his siblings in the Hermes cabin. "I have a plan."

The air seemed to sizzle hotter, making Jack aware of how much he'd been sweating. They must have crossed the border for Camp Half-Blood. Everything felt like it hopped up by ten degrees. The foliage looked more parched, probably from the erratic weather they'd been having all summer.

Jack jumped as an idea jolted him out of his gloom, far easier than he felt like it should have. "We—we should set up a celebration for it! Thalia seems really important to you—and I'll bet the monsters and demigods would like something like that. It's the one thing the Princess Andromeda is missing: a relaxing, fun thing that brings everyone together, something that isn't competitive that would encourage the monsters and demigods to interact more, like a dance or a concert!"

With how horrible everything had been, Jack hadn't been getting many exciting ideas. He hadn't meant to prattle on. He bit his lip, expecting Luke to tell him that was stupid or impractical.

The tiniest part of him had some hope. How nice would it be if Jack got to make up for missing prom by dancing with Flynn at a celebration? Especially if Luke got to invite Thalia and she—what had Phil said?—set Luke straight.

Instead, Luke let out a genuine laugh, looking more surprised. "A concert? Not a bad idea. Thalia would probably love that." He examined Jack with new interest.

The two stopped walking at a yellow diamond traffic sign posted in the middle of the woods. A centaur was depicted in a black outline, holding one thumb up like a hitchhiker. Jack found himself wondering if there was a centaur transportation system around the whole world that he'd never noticed before.

"You know, if you come up with more ideas like that, I might set you up as the coordinator for morale boosting and demigod-monster relations," Luke said, jamming his hands into his pockets and kicking at the dirt. "Some of the new recruits have been complaining that the appeal of a cruise ship fades fast when you've got monster slime in all the pools. Kinda hard to swim in."

Jack grinned, bashful. Most people didn't like his ideas. Even Flynn glared him when he brought up forming a band or making a reality TV show. "I—I would like that. The morale boosting, not the slime pools. I'm not great at fighting."

"Not with a sword," Luke agreed, eyeing the guitar string unraveling from Jack's wrist. Base strings, Jack realized. It's too thick to be guitar string.

Jack clenched his fists, feeling the sting of his cut palms. He didn't want to think about what happened or ruin this uncanny tranquility inside of him. "Can you tell me all about Thalia?"

Phil had said that Luke didn't talk about Thalia much, so the chances were low. Jack still had to try.

Luke shuffled his foot one more time. He exhaled. "Uh… yea, man. We can talk about her."

The centaurs arrived soon after Luke started describing her. The more Luke talked about Thalia, the less Jack remembered the feel of Ryan's shoe when he tossed the corpse into the Labyrinth. By the time they got to the monster bar—Jack, a Shirley Temple; Luke, an Irish Car Bomb and three beers [footnote 5]—Jack was giddy thinking about this potential party. He could almost look at a crumpled napkin without thinking about the bump of Ryan's nose under his wrapped bed sheet.

With that night, Jack and Luke set an unintentional tradition, going to the monster bar every other week. That was the first time Luke took Jack out to celebrate and party after Jack killed a sibling. It wouldn't be the last. Jack couldn't care about that. All he cared about was how he'd found himself the perfect friend.

Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. (Mel asked how I made murder buddies adorable. They did it themselves.) My brother got married last weekend so sorry for the delay! Stay tuned this Fri/Sat (Wait? Tomorrow—shit! Must. Find Time. To. Edit.) for the intro of a certain set of brothers with a penchant for acrobatics and weasels in Axel's Say No To Cruise Ships.

Hey everyone! Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed. (Mel asked how I made murder buddies adorable. They did it themselves.) My brother got married last weekend so sorry for the delay!

1 Mel (betaeditor)'s one request, "Just don't change into weird things… and actually, don't keep a scoreboard."

2 Shakespeare. Sonnet 29.

3 Mel betacomment, "I would be horrified to know what bothered Phil." Jack, "High shelves on a liquor cabinet and a disorganized kitchen."

4 My brother said this to me a lot growing up. He also threw house parties when my parents were out of town (my dad liked to double back and infiltrate the parties to freak the partiers out), ended a lot of fights, snuck a lot of girls into the "fort" we built in the woods behind our house, and plenty of other admirable activities. Exquisite role model.

5 Mel betacomment, "I READ BEARS AT FIRST AND GOT SO CONFUSED!" Jack, "Agrius comes in NEXT short story."