The Battle of the Labyrinth
Annabeth’s mother: Athena.
Daedalus scowled up at the heavens. “I have always honored you, Mother. I have sacrificed everything to follow your way.”
Yet the boy had my blessing as well. And you have killed him. For that, you must pay.
“I’ve paid and paid!” Daedalus growled. “I’ve lost everything. I’ll suffer in the Underworld, no doubt. But in the meantime . . .”
He picked up the boy’s scroll, studied it for a moment, and slipped it into his sleeve.
You do not understand , Athena said coldly. You will pay now and forever.
Suddenly Daedalus collapsed in agony. I felt what he felt. A searing pain closed around my neck like a molten-hot collar—cutting off my breath, making everything go black.
I woke in the dark, my hands clutching at my throat.
“Percy?” Grover called from the other sofa. “Are you okay?”
I steadied my breathing. I wasn’t sure how to answer. I’d just watched the guy we were looking for, Daedalus, murder his own nephew. How could I be okay? The television was going. Blue light flickered through the room.
“What—what time is it?” I croaked.
“Two in morning,” Grover said. “I couldn’t sleep. I was watching the Nature Channel.” He sniffled. “I miss Juniper.”
I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. “Yeah, well . . . you’ll see her again soon.”
Grover shook his head sadly. “Do you know what day it is, Percy? I just saw it on TV. It’s June thirteenth. Seven days since we left camp.”
“What?” I said. “That can’t be right.”
“Time is faster in the Labyrinth,” Grover reminded me. “The first time you and Annabeth went down there, you thought you were only gone a few minutes, right? But it was an hour.”
“Oh,” I said. “Right.” Then it dawned on me what he was saying, and my throat felt searing hot again. “Your deadline with the Council of Cloven Elders.”
Grover put the TV remote in his mouth and crunched off the end of it. “I’m out of time,” he said with a mouthful of plastic. “As soon as I go back, they’ll take away my searcher’s license. I’ll never be allowed to go out again.”
“We’ll talk to them,” I promised. “Make them give you more time.”
Grover swallowed. “They’ll never go for it. The world is dying, Percy. Every day it gets worse. The wild . . . I can just feel it fading. I have to find Pan.”
“You will, man. No doubt.”
Grover looked at me with sad goat eyes. “You’ve always been a good friend, Percy. What you did today—saving the ranch animals from Geryon—that was amazing. I—I wish I could be more like you.”
“Hey,” I said. “Don’t say that. You’re just as much a hero—”
“No I’m not. I keep trying, but . . .” He sighed. “Percy, I can’t go back to camp without finding Pan. I just can’t. You understand that, don’t you? I can’t face Juniper if I fail. I can’t even face myself.”
His voice was so unhappy it hurt to hear. We’d been through a lot together, but I’d never heard him sound this down.
“We’ll figure out something,” I said. “You haven’t failed. You’re the champion goat boy, all right? Juniper knows that. So do I.”
Grover closed his eyes. “Champion goat boy,” he muttered dejectedly.
A long time after he dozed off, I was still awake, watching the blue light of the Nature Channel wash over the stuffed trophy heads on Geryon’s walls.
The next morning we walked down to the cattle guard and said our good-byes.
“Nico, you could come with us,” I blurted out. I guess I was thinking about my dream, and how much the young boy Perdix reminded me of Nico.
He shook his head. I don’t think any of us had slept well in the demon ranch house, but Nico looked worse than anybody else. His eyes were red and his face chalky. He was wrapped in a black robe that must’ve belonged to Geryon, because it was three sizes too big even for a grown man.
“I need time to think.” His eyes wouldn’t meet mine, but I could tell from his tone he was still angry. The fact that his sister had come out of the Underworld for me and not for him didn’t seem to sit well with him.
“Nico,” Annabeth said. “Bianca just wants you to be okay.”
She put her hand on his shoulder, but he pulled away and trudged up the road toward the ranch house. Maybe it was my imagination, but the morning mist seemed to cling to him as he walked.
“I’m worried about him,” Annabeth told me. “If he starts talking to Minos’s
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