The Battle of the Labyrinth

I didn’t even know the Big House had a basement. I peered inside and saw two figures in the far corner, sitting amid a bunch of stockpiled cases of ambrosia and strawberry preserves. One was Clarisse. The other was a teenage Hispanic guy in tattered camouflage pants and a dirty black T-shirt. His hair was greasy and matted. He was hugging his shoulders and sobbing. It was Chris Rodriguez, the half-blood who’d gone to work for Luke.
    “It’s okay,” Clarisse was telling him. “Try a little more nectar.”
    “You’re an illusion, Mary!” Chris backed farther into the corner. “G-get away.”
    “My name’s not Mary.” Clarisse’s voice was gentle but really sad. I never knew Clarisse could sound that way. “My name is Clarisse. Remember. Please.”
    “It’s dark!” Chris yelled. “So dark!”
    “Come outside,” Clarisse coaxed. “The sunlight will help you.”
    “A . . . a thousand skulls. The earth keeps healing him.”
    “Chris,” Clarisse pleaded. It sounded like she was close to tears. “You have to get better. Please. Mr. D will be back soon. He’s an expert in madness. Just hang on.”
    Chris’s eyes were like a cornered rat’s—wild and desperate. “There’s no way out, Mary. No way out.”
    Then he caught a glimpse of me and made a strangled, terrified sound. “The son of Poseidon! He’s horrible!”
    I backed away, hoping Clarisse hadn’t seen me. I listened for her to come charging out and yell at me, but instead she just kept talking to Chris in a sad pleading voice, trying to get him to drink the nectar. Maybe she thought it was part of Chris’s hallucination, but . . . son of Poseidon ? Chris had been looking at me, and yet why did I get the feeling he hadn’t been talking about me at all?
    And Clarisse’s tenderness—it had never even occurred to me that she might like someone; but the way she said Chris’s name . . . She’d known him before he changed sides. She’d known him a lot better than I realized. And now he was shivering in a dark basement, afraid to come out, and mumbling about someone named Mary. No wonder Clarisse didn’t want anything to do with the Labyrinth. What had happened to Chris in there?
    I heard a creak from above—like the attic door opening— and I ran for the front door. I needed to get out of that house.
    “My dear,” Chiron said. “You made it.”
    Annabeth walked into the arena. She sat on a stone bench and stared at the floor.
    “Well?” Quintus asked.
    Annabeth looked at me first. I couldn’t tell if she was trying to warn me, or if the look in her eyes was just plain fear. Then she focused on Quintus. “I got the prophecy. I will lead the quest to find Daedalus’s workshop.”
    Nobody cheered. I mean, we all liked Annabeth, and we wanted her to have a quest, but this one seemed insanely dangerous. After what I’d seen of Chris Rodriguez, I didn’t even want to think about Annabeth descending into that weird maze again.
    Chiron scraped a hoof on the dirt floor. “What did the prophecy say exactly, my dear? The wording is important.”
    Annabeth took a deep breath. “I, ah . . . well, it said, You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze . . .”
    We waited.
    “The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise.”
    Grover perked up. “The lost one! That must mean Pan! That’s great!”
    “With the dead and the traitor,” I added. “Not so great.”
    “And?” Chiron asked. “What is the rest?”
    “You shall rise or fall by the ghost king’s hand,” Annabeth said, “the child of Athena’s final stand.”
    Everyone looked around uncomfortably. Annabeth was a daughter of Athena, and a final stand didn’t sound good.
    “Hey . . . we shouldn’t jump to conclusions,” Silena said. “Annabeth isn’t the only child of Athena, right?”
    “But who’s this ghost king?” Beckendorf asked.
    No one answered. I thought about the Iris-message I’d seen of Nico summoning spirits. I had a bad feeling the prophecy was connected to that.
    “Are there more lines?” Chiron asked. “The prophecy does not sound complete.”
    Annabeth hesitated. “I don’t remember exactly.”
    Chiron raised an eyebrow. Annabeth was known for her memory. She never forgot something she heard.
    Annabeth shifted on her bench. “Something about . . . Destroy with a hero’s final breath .”
    “And?” Chiron asked.
    She stood. “Look, the point is, I have to go in. I’ll find the workshop and stop Luke. And . . . I need