The Battle of the Labyrinth

our borders. Clarisse explored a little way into the tunnels, but . . . it was very dangerous. She had some close calls. I researched everything I could find about Daedalus. I’m afraid it didn’t help much. I don’t understand exactly what Luke’s planning, but I do know this: the Labyrinth might be the key to Grover’s problem.”
    I blinked. “You think Pan is underground?”
    “It would explain why he’s been impossible to find.”
    Grover shuddered. “Satyrs hate going underground. No searcher would ever try going in that place. No flowers. No sunshine. No coffee shops!”
    “But,” Annabeth said, “the Labyrinth can lead you almost anywhere. It reads your thoughts. It was designed to fool you, to trick you and kill you; but if you can make the Labyrinth work for you—”
    “It could lead you to the wild god,” I said.
    “I can’t do it.” Grover hugged his stomach. “Just thinking about it makes me want to throw up my silverware.”
    “Grover, it may be your last chance,” Annabeth said.
    “The council is serious. One week or you learn to tap dance!”
    Over at the head table, Quintus cleared his throat. I got the feeling he didn’t want to make a scene, but Annabeth was really pushing it, sitting at my table so long.
    “We’ll talk later.” Annabeth squeezed my arm a little too hard. “Convince him, will you?”
    She returned to the Athena table, ignoring all the people who were staring at her.
    Grover buried his head in his hands. “I can’t do it, Percy. My searcher’s license. Pan. I’m going to lose it all. I’ll have to start a puppet theater.”
    “Don’t say that! We’ll figure something out.”
    He looked at me teary-eyed. “Percy, you’re my best friend. You’ve seen me underground. In that Cyclops’s cave. Do you really think I could . . .”
    His voice faltered. I remembered the Sea of Monsters, when he’d been stuck in a Cyclops’s cave. He’d never liked underground places to begin with, but now Grover really hated them. Cyclopes gave him the creeps, too. Even Tyson . . . Grover tried to hide it, but Grover and I could sort of read each other’s emotions because of this empathy link Grover had made between us. I knew how he felt. Grover was terrified of the big guy.
    “I have to leave,” Grover said miserably. “Juniper’s waiting for me. It’s a good thing she finds cowards attractive.”
    After he was gone, I looked over at Quintus. He nodded gravely, like we were sharing some dark secret. Then he went back to cutting his sausage with a dagger.
    * * *
    In the afternoon, I went down to the pegasus stables to visit my friend Blackjack.
    Yo, boss! He capered around in his stall, his black wings buffeting the air. Ya bring me some sugar cubes?
    “You know those aren’t good for you, Blackjack.”
    Yeah, so you brought me some, huh?
    I smiled and fed him a handful. Blackjack and I went back a long way. I sort of helped rescue him from Luke’s demon cruise ship a few years ago, and ever since, he insisted on repaying me with favors.
    So we got any quests coming up? Blackjack asked. I’m ready to fly, boss!
    I patted his nose. “Not sure, man. Everybody keeps talking about underground mazes.”
    Blackjack whinnied nervously. Nuh-uh. Not for this horse! You ain’t gonna be crazy enough to go in no maze, boss. Are ya? You’ll end up in the glue factory!
    “You may be right, Blackjack. We’ll see.”
    Blackjack crunched down his sugar cubes. He shook his mane like he was having a sugar seizure. Whoa! Good stuff! Well, boss, you come to your senses and want to fly somewhere, just give a whistle. Ole Blackjack and his buddies, we’ll stampede anybody for ya!
    I told him I’d keep it in mind. Then a group of younger campers came into the stables to start their riding lessons, and I decided it was time to leave. I had a bad feeling I wasn’t going to see Blackjack for a long time.
    That night after dinner, Quintus had us suit up in combat armor like we were getting ready for capture the flag, but the mood among the campers was a lot more serious. Sometime during the day the crates in the arena had disappeared, and I had a feeling whatever was in them had been emptied into the woods.
    “Right,” Quintus said, standing on the head dining table. “Gather ’round.”
    He was dressed in black leather and bronze. In the torchlight, his gray hair made him look like a ghost. Mrs. O’Leary bounded happily around him, foraging for dinner scraps.
    “You