The Battle of the Labyrinth

dummy’s shield with the arm still attached and shook it like a Frisbee. “Wait, Mr. D is away?”
    “Yes, well . . . busy times. Even Dionysus must help out. He’s gone to visit some old friends. Make sure they’re on the right side. I probably shouldn’t say more than that.”
    If Dionysus was gone, that was the best news I’d had all day. He was only our camp director because Zeus had sent him here as a punishment for chasing some off-limits wood nymph. He hated the campers and tried to make our lives miserable. With him away, this summer might actually be cool. On the other hand, if Dionysus had gotten off his butt and actually started helping the gods recruit against the Titan threat, things must be looking pretty bad.
    Off to my left, there was a loud BUMP . Six wooden crates the size of picnic tables were stacked nearby, and they were rattling. Mrs. O’Leary cocked her head and bounded toward them.
    “Whoa, girl!” Quintus said. “Those aren’t for you.” He distracted her with the bronze shield Frisbee.
    The crates thumped and shook. There were words printed on the sides, but with my dyslexia they took me a few minutes to decipher:
    TRIPLE G RANCH
FRAGILE
THIS END UP
    Along the bottom, in smaller letters: OPEN WITH CARE. TRIPLE G RANCH IS NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR PROPERTY DAMAGE, MAIMING, OR EXCRUCIATINGLY PAINFUL DEATHS.
    “What’s in the boxes?” I asked.
    “A little surprise,” Quintus said. “Training activity for tomorrow night. You’ll love it.”
    “Uh, okay,” I said, though I wasn’t sure about the “excruciatingly painful death” part.
    Quintus threw the bronze shield, and Mrs. O’Leary lumbered after it. “You young ones need more challenges. They didn’t have camps like this when I was a boy.”
    “You—you’re a half-blood?” I didn’t mean to sound so surprised, but I’d never seen an old demigod before.
    Quintus chuckled. “Some of us do survive into adulthood, you know. Not all of us are the subject of terrible prophecies.”
    “You know about my prophecy?”
    “I’ve heard a few things.”
    I wanted to ask what few things, but just then Chiron clip-clopped into the arena. “Percy, there you are!”
    He must’ve just come from teaching archery. He had a quiver and bow slung over his #1 CENTAUR T-shirt. He’d trimmed his curly brown hair and beard for the summer, and his lower half, which was a white stallion, was flecked with mud and grass.
    “I see you’ve met our new instructor.” Chiron’s tone was light, but there was an uneasy look in his eyes. “Quintus, do you mind if I borrow Percy?”
    “Not at all, Master Chiron.”
    “No need to call me ‘Master,’” Chiron said, though he sounded sort of pleased. “Come, Percy. We have much to discuss.”
    I took one more glance at Mrs. O’Leary, who was now chewing off the target dummy’s legs.
    “Well, see you,” I told Quintus.
    As we were walking away, I whispered to Chiron, “Quintus seems kind of—”
    “Mysterious?” Chiron suggested. “Hard to read?”
    “Yeah.”
    Chiron nodded. “A very qualified half-blood. Excellent swordsman. I just wish I understood . . .”
    Whatever he was going to say, he apparently changed his mind. “First things first, Percy. Annabeth told me you met some empousai .”
    “Yeah.” I told him about the fight at Goode, and how Kelli had exploded into flames.
    “Mm,” Chiron said. “The more powerful ones can do that. She did not die, Percy. She simply escaped. It is not good that the she-demons are stirring.”
    “What were they doing there?” I asked. “Waiting for me?”
    “Possibly.” Chiron frowned. “It is amazing you survived. Their powers of deception . . . almost any male hero would’ve fallen under their spell and been devoured.”
    “I would’ve been,” I admitted. “Except for Rachel.”
    Chiron nodded. “Ironic to be saved by a mortal, yet we owe her a debt. What the empousa said about an attack on camp—we must speak of this further. But for now, come, we should get to the woods. Grover will want you there.”
    “Where?”
    “At his formal hearing,” Chiron said grimly. “The Council of Cloven Elders is meeting now to decide his fate.”
    Chiron said we needed to hurry, so I let him give me a ride on his back. As we galloped past the cabins, I glanced at the dining hall—an open-air Greek pavilion on a hill overlooking the sea. It was the first time I’d seen the place since last summer, and it brought back bad