The Battle of the Labyrinth

the wrong way. But so what? My clients still pay me well.”
    “What clients?” I demanded.
    “Oh, you’d be surprised how many people will pay for a flesh-eating horse. They make great garbage disposals. Wonderful way to terrify your enemies. Great at birthday parties! We rent them out all the time.”
    “You’re a monster,” Annabeth decided.
    Geryon stopped the moo-mobile and turned to look at her. “What gave it away? Was it the three bodies?”
    “You have to let these animals go,” Grover said. “It’s not right!”
    “And the clients you keep talking about,” Annabeth said. “You work for Kronos, don’t you? You’re supplying his army with horses, food, whatever they need.”
    Geryon shrugged, which was very weird since he had three sets of shoulders. It looked like he was doing the wave all by himself. “I work for anyone with gold, young lady. I’m a businessman. And I sell them anything I have to offer.”
    He climbed out of the moo-mobile and strolled toward the stables as if enjoying the fresh air. It would’ve been a nice view, with the river and the trees and hills and all, except for the quagmire of horse muck.
    Nico got out of the back car and stormed over to Geryon. The cowherd Eurytion wasn’t as sleepy as he looked. He hefted his club and walked after Nico.
    “I came here for business, Geryon,” Nico said. “And you haven’t answered me.”
    “Mmm.” Geryon examined a cactus. His left arm reached over and scratched his middle chest. “Yes, you’ll get a deal, all right.”
    “My ghost told me you could help. He said you could guide us to the soul we need.”
    “Wait a second,” I said. “I thought I was the soul you wanted.”
    Nico looked at me like I was crazy. “You? Why would I want you? Bianca’s soul is worth a thousand of yours! Now, can you help me, Geryon, or not?”
    “Oh, I imagine I could,” the rancher said. “Your ghost friend, by the way, where is he?”
    Nico looked uneasy. “He can’t form in broad daylight. It’s hard for him. But he’s around somewhere.”
    Geryon smiled. “I’m sure. Minos likes to disappear when things get . . . difficult.”
    “Minos?” I remembered the man I’d seen in my dreams, with the golden crown, the pointed beard, and the cruel eyes. “You mean that evil king? That’s the ghost who’s been giving you advice?”
    “It’s none of your business, Percy!” Nico turned back to Geryon. “And what do you mean about things getting difficult?”
    The three-bodied man sighed. “Well you see, Nico— can I call you Nico?”
    “No.”
    “You see, Nico, Luke Castellan is offering very good money for half-bloods. Especially powerful half-bloods. And I’m sure when he learns your little secret, who you really are, he’ll pay very, very well indeed.”
    Nico drew his sword, but Eurytion knocked it out of his hand. Before I could get up, Orthus pounced on my chest and growled, his faces an inch away from mine.
    “I would stay in the car, all of you,” Geryon warned. “Or Orthus will tear Mr. Jackson’s throat out. Now, Eurytion, if would be so kind, secure Nico.”
    The cowherd spit into the grass. “Do I have to?”
    “Yes, you fool!”
    Eurytion looked bored, but he wrapped one huge arm around Nico and lifted him up like a wrestler.
    “Pick up the sword, too,” Geryon said with distaste. “There’s nothing I hate worse than Stygian iron.”
    Eurytion picked up the sword, careful not to touch the blade.
    “Now,” Geryon said cheerfully, “we’ve had the tour. Let’s go back to the lodge, have some lunch, and send an Iris-message to our friends in the Titan army.”
    “You fiend!” Annabeth cried.
    Geryon smiled at her. “Don’t worry, my dear. Once I’ve delivered Mr. di Angelo, you and your party can go. I don’t interfere with quests. Besides, I’ve been paid well to give you safe passage, which does not, I’m afraid, include Mr. di Angelo.”
    “Paid by whom?” Annabeth said. “What do you mean?”
    “Never you mind, darlin’. Let’s be off, shall we?”
    “Wait!” I said, and Orthus growled. I stayed perfectly still so he wouldn’t tear my throat out. “Geryon, you said you’re a businessman. Make me a deal.”
    Geryon narrowed his eyes. “What sort of deal? Do you have gold?”
    “I’ve got something better. Barter.”
    “But Mr. Jackson, you’ve got nothing.”
    “You could have him clean the stables,” Eurytion suggested innocently.
    “I’ll do it!” I said.