The Battle of the Labyrinth

me and . . . well, I don’t fit the image, do I?”
    He pulled a feather from the falcon’s back, and the whole automaton fell apart.
    “Believe me, young Cyclops,” Hephaestus said, “you can’t trust others. All you can trust is the work of your own hands.”
    It seemed like a pretty lonely way to live. Plus, I didn’t exactly trust the work of Hephaestus. One time in Denver, his mechanical spiders had almost killed Annabeth and me. And last year, it had been a defective Talos statue that cost Bianca her life—another one of Hephaestus’s little projects.
    He focused on me and narrowed his eyes, as if he were reading my thoughts. “Oh, this one doesn’t like me,” he mused. “No worries, I’m used to that. What would you ask of me, little demigod?”
    “We told you,” I said. “We need to find Daedalus. There’s this guy Luke, and he’s working for Kronos. He’s trying to find a way to navigate the Labyrinth so he can invade our camp. If we don’t get to Daedalus first—”
    “And I told you , boy. Looking for Daedalus is a waste of time. He won’t help you.”
    “Why not?”
    Hephaestus shrugged. “Some of us get thrown off mountainsides. Some of us . . . the way we learn not to trust people is even more painful. Ask me for gold. Or a flaming sword. Or a magical steed. These I can grant you easily. But a way to Daedalus? That’s an expensive favor.”
    “You know where he is, then,” Annabeth pressed.
    “It isn’t wise to go looking, girl.”
    “My mother says looking is the nature of wisdom.”
    Hephaestus narrowed his eyes. “Who’s your mother, then?”
    “Athena.”
    “Figures.” He sighed. “Fine goddess, Athena. A shame she pledged never to marry. All right, half-blood. I can tell you what you want to know. But there is a price. I need a favor done.”
    “Name it,” Annabeth said.
    Hephaestus actually laughed—a booming sound like a huge bellows stoking a fire. “You heroes,” he said, “always making rash promises. How refreshing!”
    He pressed a button on his workbench, and metal shutters opened along the wall. It was either a huge window or a big-screen TV, I couldn’t tell which. We were looking at a gray mountain ringed in forests. It must’ve been a volcano, because smoke rose from its crest.
    “One of my forges,” Hephaestus said. “I have many, but that used to be my favorite.”
    “That’s Mount St. Helens,” Grover said. “Great forests around there.”
    “You’ve been there?” I asked.
    “Looking for . . . you know. Pan.”
    “Wait,” Annabeth said, looking at Hephaestus. “You said it used to be your favorite. What happened?”
    Hephaestus scratched his smoldering beard. “Well, that’s where the monster Typhon is trapped, you know. Used to be under Mount Etna, but when we moved to America, his force got pinned under Mount St. Helens instead. Great source of fire, but a bit dangerous. There’s always a chance he will escape. Lots of eruptions these days, smoldering all the time. He’s restless with the Titan rebellion.”
    “What do you want us to do?” I said. “Fight him?”
    Hephaestus snorted. “That would be suicide. The gods themselves ran from Typhon when he was free. No, pray you never have to see him, much less fight him. But lately I have sensed intruders in my mountain. Someone or something is using my forges. When I go there, it is empty, but I can tell it is being used. They sense me coming, and they disappear. I send my automatons to investigate, but they do not return. Something . . . ancient is there. Evil. I want to know who dares invade my territory, and if they mean to lose Typhon.”
    “You want us to find out who it is,” I said.
    “Aye,” Hephaestus said. “Go there. They may not sense you coming. You are not gods.”
    “Glad you noticed,” I muttered.
    “Go and find out what you can,” Hephaestus said. “Report back to me, and I will tell you what you need to know about Daedalus.”
    “All right,” Annabeth said. “How do we get there?”
    Hephaestus clapped his hands. The spider came swinging down from the rafters. Annabeth flinched when it landed at her feet.
    “My creation will show you the way,” Hephaestus said. “It is not far through the Labyrinth. And try to stay alive, will you? Humans are much more fragile than automatons.”
    We were doing okay until we hit the tree roots. The spider raced along and we were keeping up, but then we spotted a tunnel off to the side that was dug