senkise19
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Of Demigods and Wrackspurts (PJO/HP - Luna Lovegood)
- Thread starter Firewillreign
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MrTopHatSmith
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I can see luna, delirious from pain, half dead from blood loss pale as a poor ghost bed sheet, saying that with the most innocent "how's it going" smile in the whole world.
Chapter 8: The Ordeals Of The Labyrinth - Part 1
Firewillreign
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Percy woke up slowly, nursing the mother of all headaches.
Naturally, his day got worse from there.
Crawling back to consciousness was hard. He wasn't usually a heavy sleeper - demigod dreams and all the omens and general nastiness that came with them tended to take the fun right out of zonking out, but this time around his mind seemed to cling to that dozy state of half-wakefulness that came right before the real thing and damn near refused to let go.
Eventually, he managed to blink his eyes open and dimly determined that he was flat on his back, in utter discomfort, and lying somewhere dark and unrecognizable.
He sighed deeply.
Yeah, this seemed about right.
It said a lot about his divine train wreck of a life that waking up and finding himself in strange, unfamiliar places while feeling like death warmed over wasn't exactly new. Heck, after three years and just as many equally deadly quests in this Greek hero shindig, it was well on its way to becoming a time-honored tradition, and not the fun kind either.
Which shouldn't ever be a surprise, not even a little. Percy wasn't always the smartest person in the room, but when it came to the gods and their messes, he didn't have to be to know that none of it was ever the fun kind.
Still, expecting the messes was one thing. Dealing with them was a whole other thing.
'Where?-' He tried to think dazedly, straining to remember what and/or where he'd gotten up to this time around before he made the terrible mistake of trying to sit up and immediately got smacked in the face with a tidal wave of pure misery.
Everything hurt. His bones creaked and muscles ached like they'd been trampled by a herd of rampaging centaurs. Every one of his organs from the neck down felt like they'd been replaced with paper maché and bruises, and the less said about the unholy pounding in his skull and between his eyes, the better.
"Di immortals." Hie rasped disbelievingly, throat dryer than course-grit sandpaper. Swallowing barely dimmed the sensation behind his tongue. It burned like he'd been gargling Greek fire. "What hit me?"
"About a hundred million tons of scrap metal and dumpster refuse." A familiar voice answered. "More or less."
He felt his eyes widen and he rolled onto his side, ignoring the way his everything screamed in protest of the sudden motion.
"Annabeth?"
The daughter of Athena smiled from where she was sitting slumped against a mortar-grey wall, tired but genuine, and raised her hand in a half-hearted salute.
"The one and only, seaweed brain."
The wave of relief that washed over him at the sight of her was practically a trained response after all these years. It was a heady feeling, and Percy let himself bask in it for a beat, let it dull the sharp edge of exhaustion and soreness that he could still almost taste, because every injury he'd ever taken on a quest always seemed to be competing to outdo the last and he'd take whatever break he could get.
No good thing lasts forever, though, or even very long at all with his luck, and it only took him about five seconds more to get over the sudden relief and the lingering haze from his not-so-blissful blackout.
He looked at Annabeth, really looked at her, and he felt his stomach drop. Even in the relative dark, she looked awful. Her skin was a little too pale, her eyes were a little too haggard, and there was a particularly vicious-looking ring of bruises across her forehead and trailing down the left side of her face. The right side wasn't half as bruised, but it made up for it with an ugly vertical gash trailing from her cheek and up, the skin a vile green at the torn edges and visibly inflamed. The wound was so bad that half her blonde curls on the side of the cut had gone reddish-brown with dried, crusted blood.
Gods.
It was the most awful state he'd ever seen Annabeth in, ever. Not even their time in the sea of monsters came close, and they'd survived a literal explosion point blank and sent days out on the sea, one step removed from sea-creature bait. She looked like she'd gone ten around with the entirety of the Ares cabin - or maybe just Clarrise on one of her off days with no one to referee.
"What happened to you?" He asked, horrified. "What happened to us?"
"I have no idea, Percy." Now that he was paying attention, even her voice sounded off. Woozy and off-kilter. "Bianca did something, I think, and then we fell."
"Fell?"
And then it all came back to him.
The prophecy, the quest, the escape, the gods.
And the lighting in the end right before the ground gave out and... nothing.
Nada. Zilch.
(Or was it Zeus?)
"Fell." He repeated, a bit dumbly, because it was either that or he'd start screaming and probably ruin his vocal cords for good "Fell where?"
"I don't know." Annabeth closed her eyes, and wasn't it telling, how miserable she sounded? "We must have been separated in the fall, and by the time I woke up, it was only the three of us. I don't know where the others are - I don't even know where we are."
...
Well. Well.
Ignoring the hollow feeling clawing at his gut, he panned his eyes across the room - no, not a room. This was the most obvious dungeon Percy had ever seen in his life. Bleak grey walls, cracked and uneven ground, no windows and no doors and only a single wax torch for lighting, and were those rusty chains hagging down from-!?
He stopped. "Wait, did you just say the three of us?"
Because there was him, Annabeth made two, so-
"Hi, Percy."
He turned on the spot, once again ignoring the pain arcing through his nerves to find Nico huddled behind him, hugging his knees and leaning against the wall across from him, inches away from a ridiculously massive door of burnished celestial bronze.
How had he missed him? How far off his game was he?
Nico gave a brave attempt at a smile when he stared, but it didn't reach his eyes and the wobble to his lips gave the game away. He didn't look anywhere near as banged up as Annabeth did, but that was about the only good thing he could say - the poor kid was so obviously scared out of his mind it hurt to look at.
Half their friends (and Zoë) were gone, the three of them were locked up the gods knew where and since he and Annabeth had no chance of lasting in a long fight with the state they were both in, that meant...that their backup was a ten-year-old who'd held a sword once in his life, in a mock-up war game, and never even used it.
Percy looked away. His head felt like it was filled with static, trying to put the pieces together in a way that didn't spell out a death sentence at least one of them, probably all of them, and failing harder than he ever had at any of his pre-algebra classes.
(And he'd killed one of his teachers that one time.)
"Fuck."
"Percy."
"Sorry." He muttered, entirely on reflex. He'd never been more sorry in his life. "Slipped out. Nico, pretend you didn't hear that."
"...okay."
"Right." His eyes flickered up to Annabeth. "Got a plan, wisegirl?"
"I don't have anything to work with. I'll figure something out when we know more. Until then?" Her smile was about as blank and dead as he was starting to feel on the inside. "Pray."
If that was meant to be a morbid joke, it fell flatter that paper.
Pray to who?
Most of the Olympians were out for their heads and the only one who clearly wasn't had been barbecued alla Zeus right in front of them and was nowhere to be seen. Luna's father was... something entirely out of Percy's frame of reference and Annabeth's mother and Hermes had been about five seconds from imprisoning them herself before it all went sideways in the most explosive way possible.
And his dad...
Percy swallowed
Poseidon had been, as always, nowhere to be seen. And this time, it hurt a lot worse than it ever did before.
CLANG
The three of them twisted and jumped in alarm when the door frame shook and rattled ominously, the sound of bolts sliding out of place
Nico shot to Percy's side so quickly he almost bowled them both over, and not a second too soon. The door swung in on its hinges, and searing light and noise thundered in.
A centaur in mismatched bronze armor stood in the doorway, eyes roving over the three of them sharply. Behind him, roars and chants sounded out, louder and louder until they all blended in a cacophony that reminded him of a sports stadium in the middle of a wild game.
"You're awake. Earlier than expected too, with those injuries." The centaur grinned, teeth barred maliciously. "Good. That means you're strong."
"Yeah, we are." Percy didn't stagger when he straightened, but it was a torturously near thing. He pulled Riptide out his pocket and uncapped it, raising his sword in a stance a hundred times more confident than he felt. "Now who the hell are you?"
The centaur didn't look the least bit bothered. If anything, he just looked even more excited.
Thrilled, even.
"I am the herald. You are to follow me. Now"
That...answered nothing at all. Typical.
"Where?" Percy took half a step back and bent at the knees, just a little. "And why?"
"Because my lord is courteous, and offers all strays an opportunity to greet their host in person. So you will follow me, demigods, and I will present you to him at once." The centaur's grin widened until it was nothing short of demented. "And then Lord Anteus the Earth-born will decide whether to grant you the privilege of battling in the Arena and earning blood and glory among the challengers, or kill you where you stand and claim your skulls in dedication to his father, the mighty Poseidon!"
...
"...What?"
"What the shit?" Thalia stared harder. "What the actual shit?"
"Eloquent."
When she woke up, she found a stranger looming over her. An older man, with short gray hair and a clipped gray beard. He'd been dressed in black mountain-climbing pants and a bronze breastplate over a dark shirt, and he'd smiled in greeting the second her eyes had focused on him.
"Hello. My name is Quintus."
Naturally, she did the reasonable thing and kicked him right in the face.
Being the first thing an unconscious demigod saw when they woke up disoriented from battle and injury was a good way to get stabbed, maimed, or just plain killed.
Still, this... Quintus had taken the hit with as good a grace as anyone could have. He hadn't kicked back or drawn a weapon and had let Thalia recover at her own pace, which was probably better than what she would have offered him had their roles been reversed.
She had been begrudgingly impressed.
And suspicious as all hell.
Never mind that she'd woken up in some kind of decommissioned forge with a mouthful of ambrosia being forced down her throat and Luna lying next to her, as equally dead to the world as she had been.
No demigod liked being vulnerable. It rankled.
That had been bad enough. But this...
"Where are my friends? And what is that." She whispered, pointing a finger at the... form of golden light and shimmering shapes that was stretched out on floor before them, the dull glow growing brighter and brighter by the second.
"Who," Quintus replied, gazing at her with familiar grey eyes. "Not what. Who. And the answer would be Apollo. It appears that your father truly has no originality."
"What?" The word burst out of her, not a little helplessly.
In response, Quintus shrugged.
Shrugged!
"Apollo has disobeyed Zeus," The name made something in Thalia howl. " previously, and the oh-so-just King of Olympus has punished the impudence by stripping him of his immortality on two separate occasions, each thousands of years apart. I suspect that this was supposed to be take three, so to speak, only the process was interrupted.
Thalia processed that, apart of her registering the disdain in his words, before filtering it out just like damn near everything about this mess. Instead, she'd asked-
"What does that mean? What's happening to him?"
And how bad is it?, was the unspoken addition.
"I have no idea, and while that is refreshing and I'd just love to linger behind and watch an Olympian receive some of the comeuppance they so richly deserve, I'd rather not take run the risk of disintegrating should his condition grow... out of hand."
"!?"
Whatever expression her face made right then, hade him smile.
Thalia hated that.
"No more talk now. You can have your answers in due time, daughter of Zeus. For now, it's time for us to go." And then he up and hefted Luna into his arms before looking at her expectantly. "Unless you have any more urgently pressing questions?"
She glared at him furiously.
Was he serious!?
"Ye-!"
"No, no, sorry, I didn't make myself clear. That was an entirely rhetorical question. It's time to go."
And then he turned and began to march away without another word.
Thalia stared after him in disbelief, before quickly breathing in and out.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then something in her mind finally snapped, and the daughter of Zeus well and truly lost it.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
She lunged.
Bianca curled up in the darkness and cried.
It wasn't long ago that she'd woken up in the tunnel, covered in dust and dirt and utterly alone. She'd stumbled about, dimply noting the grey, outdated walls and the pool of murky water by her feet that seemed far too deep to be natural and tried to look for help.
It hadn't taken her long to remember what had happened, and what she'd done, and that's about the point where she broke down in tears and utterly lost it.
Nico. Luna. Annabeth. Zoë. Percy
She'd lost them all. She'd killed-
She choked on a sob and curled up deeper against the wall she was leaning on, lost in her own despair.
"Moo"
...
"Moo."
What?
Slowly, she lifted her head off the ground and stared, because she hadn't just heard a cow. She hadn't. Homicidal monsters and greek gods or no, there were lines.
And yet...
Sticking out of the pool of water not ten feet away from her was a cow. A cow's head, precisely, with faint scaled skin the color of blueberries and black, deep eyes completely lacking in malice.
Bianca stared with tear tracks running down her face, hopelessly lost and confused as the creature continued calling.
"Moo."
Abruptly, it dove beneath the water that shouldn't have been deep enough to hold it and resurface just as quickly, shaking its head every which way and nearly splattering her in water.
And when she raised her head again, her jaw dropped.
Because the cow was holding something in its mouth, balanced between its teeth.
A familiar silver bow.
"That's... That's Zoë's"
The realization was blinding.
"You know where she is."
"Moo."
She didn't know how the cow (the literal cow) managed to make a noise of agreement, but it somehow did.
And for the first time since she'd woken up in this nightmare, Bianca dared to hope.
"Can you show me the way?"
And somehow, it did.
As always, leave your comments and ideas and if you don't like it, please be courteous.
Naturally, his day got worse from there.
Crawling back to consciousness was hard. He wasn't usually a heavy sleeper - demigod dreams and all the omens and general nastiness that came with them tended to take the fun right out of zonking out, but this time around his mind seemed to cling to that dozy state of half-wakefulness that came right before the real thing and damn near refused to let go.
Eventually, he managed to blink his eyes open and dimly determined that he was flat on his back, in utter discomfort, and lying somewhere dark and unrecognizable.
He sighed deeply.
Yeah, this seemed about right.
It said a lot about his divine train wreck of a life that waking up and finding himself in strange, unfamiliar places while feeling like death warmed over wasn't exactly new. Heck, after three years and just as many equally deadly quests in this Greek hero shindig, it was well on its way to becoming a time-honored tradition, and not the fun kind either.
Which shouldn't ever be a surprise, not even a little. Percy wasn't always the smartest person in the room, but when it came to the gods and their messes, he didn't have to be to know that none of it was ever the fun kind.
Still, expecting the messes was one thing. Dealing with them was a whole other thing.
'Where?-' He tried to think dazedly, straining to remember what and/or where he'd gotten up to this time around before he made the terrible mistake of trying to sit up and immediately got smacked in the face with a tidal wave of pure misery.
Everything hurt. His bones creaked and muscles ached like they'd been trampled by a herd of rampaging centaurs. Every one of his organs from the neck down felt like they'd been replaced with paper maché and bruises, and the less said about the unholy pounding in his skull and between his eyes, the better.
"Di immortals." Hie rasped disbelievingly, throat dryer than course-grit sandpaper. Swallowing barely dimmed the sensation behind his tongue. It burned like he'd been gargling Greek fire. "What hit me?"
"About a hundred million tons of scrap metal and dumpster refuse." A familiar voice answered. "More or less."
He felt his eyes widen and he rolled onto his side, ignoring the way his everything screamed in protest of the sudden motion.
"Annabeth?"
The daughter of Athena smiled from where she was sitting slumped against a mortar-grey wall, tired but genuine, and raised her hand in a half-hearted salute.
"The one and only, seaweed brain."
The wave of relief that washed over him at the sight of her was practically a trained response after all these years. It was a heady feeling, and Percy let himself bask in it for a beat, let it dull the sharp edge of exhaustion and soreness that he could still almost taste, because every injury he'd ever taken on a quest always seemed to be competing to outdo the last and he'd take whatever break he could get.
No good thing lasts forever, though, or even very long at all with his luck, and it only took him about five seconds more to get over the sudden relief and the lingering haze from his not-so-blissful blackout.
He looked at Annabeth, really looked at her, and he felt his stomach drop. Even in the relative dark, she looked awful. Her skin was a little too pale, her eyes were a little too haggard, and there was a particularly vicious-looking ring of bruises across her forehead and trailing down the left side of her face. The right side wasn't half as bruised, but it made up for it with an ugly vertical gash trailing from her cheek and up, the skin a vile green at the torn edges and visibly inflamed. The wound was so bad that half her blonde curls on the side of the cut had gone reddish-brown with dried, crusted blood.
Gods.
It was the most awful state he'd ever seen Annabeth in, ever. Not even their time in the sea of monsters came close, and they'd survived a literal explosion point blank and sent days out on the sea, one step removed from sea-creature bait. She looked like she'd gone ten around with the entirety of the Ares cabin - or maybe just Clarrise on one of her off days with no one to referee.
"What happened to you?" He asked, horrified. "What happened to us?"
"I have no idea, Percy." Now that he was paying attention, even her voice sounded off. Woozy and off-kilter. "Bianca did something, I think, and then we fell."
"Fell?"
And then it all came back to him.
The prophecy, the quest, the escape, the gods.
And the lighting in the end right before the ground gave out and... nothing.
Nada. Zilch.
(Or was it Zeus?)
"Fell." He repeated, a bit dumbly, because it was either that or he'd start screaming and probably ruin his vocal cords for good "Fell where?"
"I don't know." Annabeth closed her eyes, and wasn't it telling, how miserable she sounded? "We must have been separated in the fall, and by the time I woke up, it was only the three of us. I don't know where the others are - I don't even know where we are."
...
Well. Well.
Ignoring the hollow feeling clawing at his gut, he panned his eyes across the room - no, not a room. This was the most obvious dungeon Percy had ever seen in his life. Bleak grey walls, cracked and uneven ground, no windows and no doors and only a single wax torch for lighting, and were those rusty chains hagging down from-!?
He stopped. "Wait, did you just say the three of us?"
Because there was him, Annabeth made two, so-
"Hi, Percy."
He turned on the spot, once again ignoring the pain arcing through his nerves to find Nico huddled behind him, hugging his knees and leaning against the wall across from him, inches away from a ridiculously massive door of burnished celestial bronze.
How had he missed him? How far off his game was he?
Nico gave a brave attempt at a smile when he stared, but it didn't reach his eyes and the wobble to his lips gave the game away. He didn't look anywhere near as banged up as Annabeth did, but that was about the only good thing he could say - the poor kid was so obviously scared out of his mind it hurt to look at.
Half their friends (and Zoë) were gone, the three of them were locked up the gods knew where and since he and Annabeth had no chance of lasting in a long fight with the state they were both in, that meant...that their backup was a ten-year-old who'd held a sword once in his life, in a mock-up war game, and never even used it.
Percy looked away. His head felt like it was filled with static, trying to put the pieces together in a way that didn't spell out a death sentence at least one of them, probably all of them, and failing harder than he ever had at any of his pre-algebra classes.
(And he'd killed one of his teachers that one time.)
"Fuck."
"Percy."
"Sorry." He muttered, entirely on reflex. He'd never been more sorry in his life. "Slipped out. Nico, pretend you didn't hear that."
"...okay."
"Right." His eyes flickered up to Annabeth. "Got a plan, wisegirl?"
"I don't have anything to work with. I'll figure something out when we know more. Until then?" Her smile was about as blank and dead as he was starting to feel on the inside. "Pray."
If that was meant to be a morbid joke, it fell flatter that paper.
Pray to who?
Most of the Olympians were out for their heads and the only one who clearly wasn't had been barbecued alla Zeus right in front of them and was nowhere to be seen. Luna's father was... something entirely out of Percy's frame of reference and Annabeth's mother and Hermes had been about five seconds from imprisoning them herself before it all went sideways in the most explosive way possible.
And his dad...
Percy swallowed
Poseidon had been, as always, nowhere to be seen. And this time, it hurt a lot worse than it ever did before.
CLANG
The three of them twisted and jumped in alarm when the door frame shook and rattled ominously, the sound of bolts sliding out of place
Nico shot to Percy's side so quickly he almost bowled them both over, and not a second too soon. The door swung in on its hinges, and searing light and noise thundered in.
A centaur in mismatched bronze armor stood in the doorway, eyes roving over the three of them sharply. Behind him, roars and chants sounded out, louder and louder until they all blended in a cacophony that reminded him of a sports stadium in the middle of a wild game.
"You're awake. Earlier than expected too, with those injuries." The centaur grinned, teeth barred maliciously. "Good. That means you're strong."
"Yeah, we are." Percy didn't stagger when he straightened, but it was a torturously near thing. He pulled Riptide out his pocket and uncapped it, raising his sword in a stance a hundred times more confident than he felt. "Now who the hell are you?"
The centaur didn't look the least bit bothered. If anything, he just looked even more excited.
Thrilled, even.
"I am the herald. You are to follow me. Now"
That...answered nothing at all. Typical.
"Where?" Percy took half a step back and bent at the knees, just a little. "And why?"
"Because my lord is courteous, and offers all strays an opportunity to greet their host in person. So you will follow me, demigods, and I will present you to him at once." The centaur's grin widened until it was nothing short of demented. "And then Lord Anteus the Earth-born will decide whether to grant you the privilege of battling in the Arena and earning blood and glory among the challengers, or kill you where you stand and claim your skulls in dedication to his father, the mighty Poseidon!"
...
"...What?"
...
"What the shit?" Thalia stared harder. "What the actual shit?"
"Eloquent."
When she woke up, she found a stranger looming over her. An older man, with short gray hair and a clipped gray beard. He'd been dressed in black mountain-climbing pants and a bronze breastplate over a dark shirt, and he'd smiled in greeting the second her eyes had focused on him.
"Hello. My name is Quintus."
Naturally, she did the reasonable thing and kicked him right in the face.
Being the first thing an unconscious demigod saw when they woke up disoriented from battle and injury was a good way to get stabbed, maimed, or just plain killed.
Still, this... Quintus had taken the hit with as good a grace as anyone could have. He hadn't kicked back or drawn a weapon and had let Thalia recover at her own pace, which was probably better than what she would have offered him had their roles been reversed.
She had been begrudgingly impressed.
And suspicious as all hell.
Never mind that she'd woken up in some kind of decommissioned forge with a mouthful of ambrosia being forced down her throat and Luna lying next to her, as equally dead to the world as she had been.
No demigod liked being vulnerable. It rankled.
That had been bad enough. But this...
"Where are my friends? And what is that." She whispered, pointing a finger at the... form of golden light and shimmering shapes that was stretched out on floor before them, the dull glow growing brighter and brighter by the second.
"Who," Quintus replied, gazing at her with familiar grey eyes. "Not what. Who. And the answer would be Apollo. It appears that your father truly has no originality."
"What?" The word burst out of her, not a little helplessly.
In response, Quintus shrugged.
Shrugged!
"Apollo has disobeyed Zeus," The name made something in Thalia howl. " previously, and the oh-so-just King of Olympus has punished the impudence by stripping him of his immortality on two separate occasions, each thousands of years apart. I suspect that this was supposed to be take three, so to speak, only the process was interrupted.
Thalia processed that, apart of her registering the disdain in his words, before filtering it out just like damn near everything about this mess. Instead, she'd asked-
"What does that mean? What's happening to him?"
And how bad is it?, was the unspoken addition.
"I have no idea, and while that is refreshing and I'd just love to linger behind and watch an Olympian receive some of the comeuppance they so richly deserve, I'd rather not take run the risk of disintegrating should his condition grow... out of hand."
"!?"
Whatever expression her face made right then, hade him smile.
Thalia hated that.
"No more talk now. You can have your answers in due time, daughter of Zeus. For now, it's time for us to go." And then he up and hefted Luna into his arms before looking at her expectantly. "Unless you have any more urgently pressing questions?"
She glared at him furiously.
Was he serious!?
"Ye-!"
"No, no, sorry, I didn't make myself clear. That was an entirely rhetorical question. It's time to go."
And then he turned and began to march away without another word.
Thalia stared after him in disbelief, before quickly breathing in and out.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Then something in her mind finally snapped, and the daughter of Zeus well and truly lost it.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
She lunged.
...
Bianca curled up in the darkness and cried.
It wasn't long ago that she'd woken up in the tunnel, covered in dust and dirt and utterly alone. She'd stumbled about, dimply noting the grey, outdated walls and the pool of murky water by her feet that seemed far too deep to be natural and tried to look for help.
It hadn't taken her long to remember what had happened, and what she'd done, and that's about the point where she broke down in tears and utterly lost it.
Nico. Luna. Annabeth. Zoë. Percy
She'd lost them all. She'd killed-
She choked on a sob and curled up deeper against the wall she was leaning on, lost in her own despair.
"Moo"
...
"Moo."
What?
Slowly, she lifted her head off the ground and stared, because she hadn't just heard a cow. She hadn't. Homicidal monsters and greek gods or no, there were lines.
And yet...
Sticking out of the pool of water not ten feet away from her was a cow. A cow's head, precisely, with faint scaled skin the color of blueberries and black, deep eyes completely lacking in malice.
Bianca stared with tear tracks running down her face, hopelessly lost and confused as the creature continued calling.
"Moo."
Abruptly, it dove beneath the water that shouldn't have been deep enough to hold it and resurface just as quickly, shaking its head every which way and nearly splattering her in water.
And when she raised her head again, her jaw dropped.
Because the cow was holding something in its mouth, balanced between its teeth.
A familiar silver bow.
"That's... That's Zoë's"
The realization was blinding.
"You know where she is."
"Moo."
She didn't know how the cow (the literal cow) managed to make a noise of agreement, but it somehow did.
And for the first time since she'd woken up in this nightmare, Bianca dared to hope.
"Can you show me the way?"
And somehow, it did.
...
As always, leave your comments and ideas and if you don't like it, please be courteous.
Last edited:
Iridesce
Versed in the lewd.
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More like fusion bomb because he's a sun god.
ArcanaVitae
Versed in the lewd.
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Nico is not at all ready for this, reminds me of that time Percy got sent on a quest when he was 12 with basically no training.
Percy expressed anger at Poseidon for being absent and pretty much useless but I have a feeling he's going to be a lot more mad at Poseidon over this how thing then he was in canon.
Why hello there I was expecting him but not this soon.
Zeus seems to like to strip immortality from Apollo for some reason.
Ah Bianca is blaming herself that sucks.
Akuma-Heika
The Devil Exists Within
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Nuclear bomb would include both fission and fusion bombs. All thermo does is indicate it is speced towards heat generation IIRC
Fable of the Unspoken Word
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Undertow of Sands has awoken my hatred of Artemis, but this version of Apollo still seems like a total bro. His history is still that of a douchebag but he's still a bro
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Chapter 9: The Ordeals of The Labyrinth - Part 2
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Firewillreign
Know what you're doing yet?
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Percy grit his teeth as centaur led the three of them out of the cell and into a long stretching tunnel with bricked walls and a low-hanging ceiling. The lighting was terrible - a few torches hung on the bricks to either side of them, but the flames were too low to do much of anything.
"Quickly now, little heroes." The centaur said lips pulled in a twisted smirk "The master awaits his new entertainment."
Percy considered making a move then, just to be spiteful. He hated it when monsters started to gloat - the general smugness just rubbed salt into the whole 'I'm going to try to gut and probably eat you now' wound, and the fact that most of the ones he'd tangled with tended to have terrible dental hygiene and often had bits of gods know what stuck between their teeth didn't make things any better.
He was still battered and bruised and aching all over, but he'd fought things bigger and meaner than a lone centaur on worse odds. He could feel Riptide pressed against the inside of his jean pocket just fine, and bad shape or no, three feet of celestial bronze at relatively close quarters was a great equalizer.
Then Nico stumbled at his side, and Percy abruptly remembered the real problem - the ten-year-old anvil of a handicap weighing him down.
Percy's eyes flickered to Annabeth on his left, and she shook her head ever so slightly.
Not now, the look in her eyes said, and Percy clenched his fists and hissed a curse under his breath so nasty his mom would have made him gargle soap three times a day for a week just to wash it out if she'd heard.
Neither he nor Annabeth were good enough to fight their way ahead, watch each other's backs and cart Nico to safety with them out of here.
They didn't even know where here was, or if the others were here as well - there was no way they could take the risk.
Damn it.
He forced himself to exhale and turned back to the centaur, whose smirk had grown into a full-blown gleeful grin, complete with - yeah, Percy called it - gnarly yellow teeth.
He'd probably caught that entire exchange and understood exactly what it meant.
"A wise choice. And right on time, too - our escort has arrived."
In front of them, the sound of heavy footsteps came closer. Two huge forms appeared out of the gloom — eight-foot-tall Laistrygonian giants with red eyes and fangs, dressed in pieces of battle-scraped bronze armor and leather cuirasses beneath them.
Somehow, from the hungry looks they gave him, Percy got the impression that these guys weren't on Larry the poultry-extrodinaire's christmas card list.
"Now march."
...
Up ahead, he could see bronze doors. They were about ten feet tall and emblazoned with a pair of crossed swords. From behind them came a muffled roar, like from a crowd.
"Oh, yes," The centaur sounded euphoric in a way that had Percy's stomach roiling - Chrion and the party ponies were a whole other ball game compared to this lunatic. "The games have just begun - the master always loves a fresh fighter."
"Who's your host?" Percy asked.
The centaur barred his teeth in delight "Oh, you'll see. You may very well earn his favor, Percy Jackson. He's your brother, after all."
"My what?"
He wasn't surprised that he knew his name - on some days, it seemed that every half-monstrous creature that ever crawled out of Tartarus knew who he was, but brother?
Immediately he thought of Tyson, but that was impossible.
One of the giants pushed past them then and opened the doors, letting light and cheers rush over them. Then he turned around and picked up Annabeth by her shirt and said, "You stay here."
"Hey!" she protested, but the guy was twice her size and could likely break her in half in the time it took Percy to lunge for him. The other had already put his hand around Nico's neck in silent warning.
"Go on then, demigod. Entertain us. We'll wait here with your friends to make sure you behave yourself as befitting the master's honored brother."
The way he said 'honored' sounded more like 'cursed'. Or maybe 'screwed' - those were almost one and the same.
Percy seethed, but there wasn't a damned thing he could do but play along, and everybody there knew it.
"I got this."
She nodded as much as she could with the grip the Laistrogonian had on her, lips pursing and eyes set in a grim, understanding slant. "Watch your back."
Nico was pale as milk and stiffer than a plank of wood, but he still tried to smile.
"Be careful, Percy."
Then the centaur urged him toward the doorway with a forceful wave of his hand, and Percy walked out onto the floor of an arena.
It wasn't the largest arena he'd ever been in, but considering the whole place was enclosed and almost definitely far underground, it was impressive - and that wasn't a compliment.
The dirt floor was circular, just big enough that you could drive a car around the rim if you pulled it really tight. In the center of the arena, a fight was going on between a giant hellhound - easily thrice the size of the one that had attacked him on his first year at Camp, and a dracaena.
Except for the size, the hellhound was more or less exactly what would have expected - a canine wall of bristling dark fur, red eyes and a mouth full of fangs nearly the size of his forearm, but it was the first time he'd seen a dracaena this close.
She wore bronze armor that stopped at her waist, and would've had a beautiful face, except her tongue was forked and her eyes were yellow with black slits for pupils. Below that, where her legs should've been were two massive snake trunks, mottled bronze and green.
She kept moving by a combination of slithering and lunging side to side as if she were on living skis, and she looked terrified. He'd seen and been in enough fights to realize she was trying to flank the hellhound and trying to keep its snapping jaws at bay with thrusts of a javelin, but it kept batting the clumsy jabs away with a paw wider than Percy's head was and snarling rabidly.
And the horribly one-sided battle wasn't the worst of it - not even close. Percy pulled his eyes off it for one second to look at the rest of the arena and nearly seized in panic.
"You've got to be kidding me."
The first tier of seats was twelve feet above the arena floor. Plain stone benches wrapped all the way around, and every seat was full. There were giants, dracaenae, centaurs, and stranger things: bat-winged demons and creatures that seemed half human and half you name it—bird, reptile, insect, mammal - and those were just the ones he could vaguely recognize.
But the creepiest things were the skulls. The arena was full of them. They ringed the edge of the railing. Three-foot-high piles of them decorated the steps between the benches. They grinned from pikes at the back of the stands and hung on chains from the ceiling like horrible chandeliers. Some of them looked very old—nothing but bleached-white bone. Others looked a lot fresher - still heavy with flesh and gore and crawling with writhing maggots-
Gods.
He looked away as his stomach roiled - and got a picture-perfect look at the most damning display of all.
In the middle of all this, proudly displayed on the side of the spectator's wall, was something that made no sense to him—a green banner with the trident of Poseidon in the center.
What was that doing in a horrible place like this?
What did his dad have to do with a horrible place like this?
Sitting below the banner, on a raised, elaborate diseased and in a seat of honor was the largest giant Percy had ever seen before. He must've been fifteen feet tall, easy, and so wide he took up three seats. He wore only a loincloth, like a sumo wrestler. His skin was leathery and dark red and tattooed with blue wave designs.
And his eyes? Black, beady, and naturally, focused dead center on Percy.
When he took a step back and twitched for Riptide in his pocket, still hyper-aware of the other two giants at his back, the one on the throne grinned nastily and turned back down to the fight beneath them.
Right in time for it to end.
The dracaena made to stab at it again. The hellhound slipped past the blow and clamped down on the shaft and heaved with its weight before pulling, yanking the snake woman off her feet and flinging her away like a rag doll. The javelin was knocked out of her grip right as she hit the dirt.
The hellhound snarled victoriously and advanced, hackles raising. The dracaena writhed in fear, but she couldn't get up. One of her arms was badly mangled.
She met Percy's eyes pleadingly "Help!"
He made to move, but a rough hand gripped his shoulder.
"If you value your friends' lives," the same damned centaur said, "you won't interfere. This isn't your fight yet, Jackson. Wait your turn."
Percy clenched his fists, trying to think of something, but it was already too late - The hellhound pounced.
He closed his eyes right as its jaws snapped shut and the arena was filled with the sound of wet, heavy tearing. When he opened them again, the dracaena was gone, disintegrated to dust that poured out from between the hellhound's teeth like golden sand.
The monsters in the stands roared their approval. On cue, a gate opened at the opposite end of the stadium and the hellhound bounded out in triumph.
That's when the red giant rose from his seat and raised his arms. Standing upright, he looked like the world's most monstrous sumo wrestler.
"A poor fighter, but good entertainment!" he bellowed, and the crowd surged with the words "Yet still nothing I haven't seen before! It is time for a new contestant."
He raised an arm and gestured to Percy.
"Mine own brother, Perseus Jackson, stands among us now! Perhaps he will prove mettle worthy of a child of the sea god!"
Percy stared like an idiot.
Tyson was one thing, but this guy?
"How are you a son of Poseidon?"
Which, in hindsight might have been the wrong thing to say, because the giant's expression darkened dangerously.
"I am his favorite son! His truest and most dedicated!" He boomed. "I am Anteus the giant-born! Behold, my temple to the Earthshaker, built from the skulls of all those I've killed in his name! Afford me the proper respect, or yours may soon join them!"
Percy stared in fresh horror at all the skulls—hundreds of them, at least—and the banner of Poseidon.
How could this be a temple for his dad? His dad was a nice guy - or, he was decent, as far as Olympians went.
He'd never ask for a Father's Day card, much less somebody's skull.
So where is he now?, a treacherous voice whispered at the back of his head. Where's Poseidon now, when you need him once again?
"Percy!" Annabeth yelled behind him. "His mother is Gaea! Gae—"
Her Laistrygonian captor clamped his hand over her mouth and cut her off, but Percy heard enough.
His mother is Gaea. The earth goddess. Annabeth was trying to tell him that was important, but Percy didn't know why. Maybe just because the guy had two godly parents. That would make him even harder to kill.
Because clearly, being fifteen feet tall with biceps bigger than basketballs wasn't enough of an advantage already.
"I've heard many a tale of you, fellow son of the sea!" Anteus smiled down from his dias. "Enemies and Allies old and new have sent word to me on your behalf. To kill you, to capture you - even to spare you and aid you on your way!"
What?
"But neither god nor Titan can command the fate of one who has not proved himself in this arena! Only I decide your fate! And so I will!"
Anteus raised a hand, and the gate at the end of the area rose again. This time, an entire horde of monsters marched out of the dark. Dracaena, giants, and some creature that looked like the unholy cross of a seal, a dog and something he didn't even want to imagine - and there were nearly a dozen of them all in all.
"Now, what weapons will you choose?"
"You're crazy, Antaeus," Percy said, but his eyes never left the horde coming his way. "If you think this is a good tribute, you know nothing about Poseidon."
"Ha!" Anteus sneered contemptuously, but he didn't rise to the bait. "Prove your worth and then we may speak, brother. Else your fellow half-bloods will join you in death and all your skulls sacrificed in glory to our father. Now arm yourself! Will you have axes? Shields? Nets? Flamethrowers?"
Percy pulled Riptide out of his pocket.
"Just my sword."
Laughter erupted from the monsters, but immediately Riptide appeared in his hands, and some of the voices in the crowd turned nervous. The bronze blade glowed with a faint light.
Anteus raised his hand for silence, and the arena held its breath.
"Round one!" The giant called gleefully. "Start!"
And just like that, the monsters surged toward him
Dad, He thought - prayed, as quickly as he ever had before, I know you're not supposed to interfere - and I know this quest is probably making things worse, but I'm in a really bad spot and I could use a sign right about now.
Anything.
...
There was no answer.
Somehow, Percy wasn't surprised. Something cold and bitter curled up in his gut, just before the first giant lunged for him with a sword he promptly began fighting for his life.
"Well." Luna Lovegood opened her mouth, paused and closed it again as she visibly tried to collect herself. "Well. This is... a mess."
Thalia shot her a look so flat if it had edges it would have cut air.
"You don't friggin say."
"I don't often, no." The other girl agreed, and the daughter of Zeus - and what a riot that turned out to be - twitched so hard blue-white sparks began to flicker between her fingertips. "I like to look on the bright side. Fewer wrackspurts that way.."
See, ignoring whatever that was at the end, that right there was the kind of holier-than though bullshit answer that would ordinarily have Thalia itching to stab someone.
Except, she got the distinct and entirely annoying impression that Lovegood meant it, which was almost as annoying and somehow the least of their problems right now.
"Except." Luna staggered to her feet and nearly tumbled over again. Thalia took a step forward to brace her. "I don't think there is a bright side."
"Quite."
Both of them turned to look at Quintus, who'd crossed his arms and kept to the far end of the abandoned forge ever since Thalia had made it clear she was one wrong move from running him through with her spear and lighting him up like a lamppost.
She'd already tried to, and she would have kept at it too, except that the man had offered ambrosia and nectar for both of them and still hadn't put one toe out of line yet.
"Well, metaphorically of course." The man craned his neck and gestured to the tunnel where they'd left Apollo behind, where the golden glow "I'm afraid that the god of the sun losing control of his material avatar and unraveling is going to be very bright. Cataclysmically so."
That again.
"You were serious." Thalia pursed her lips. "Apollo's about to explode."
"In a sense, yes."
Right. Naturally.
Why the fuck wouldn't he?
"How big an explosion?" She demanded. "Can we outrun it?
Because she was not dying here, like this, with Annabeth, Percy and all the others missing.
She was not dying at her bastard of a father's hand, no matter how indirectly - the great prophecy was one thing, but if the three fates thought they could do her in like this they could fuck right off and take their accursed miserable strings with them.
And Quintus shrugged. "You could walk out of this chamber with me and take five steps in any direction, and you'd find yourself clear of any danger. Unless you know exactly what you're doing, distance means very little in the Labyrinth."
The name niggled at her mind, but she didn't get to voice the obvious question - Luna beat her to it.
"I guess you'd know best, wouldn't you?" The other girl had finally pulled her concerned gaze off the literally melting god long enough to pin the shady ally of circumstance with a look. "Quintus."
There was a long pause, and the man abruptly went ramrod straight. Thalia snarled on instinct and hefted her spear.
"You know."
"I do." Luna seemed to understand whatever context it was that flew clear over Thalia's head. "My father makes a habit of teaching me all about the most notorious living souls determined to fly the final coup. You're near the top of that list."
"... I see." He whispered. "So it is true. I'd hardly believed it. Luna Lovegood... the daughter of Thanatos."
Luna pursed her lips. "That secret spread quickly."
"Secrets often do. And the more valuable they are, the faster they travel." The man regarded her grimly. "Of course, having the right informants helps too. And I have plenty - there are a great many forces searching for you, Miss Lovegood. You, and all your fellow questors."
"Is that how you found us?" Thalia growled, mostly to hide the fact that nearly every word in this conversation was loaded with implications that were flying clear over her head.
"I would have thought you of all people would seek to avoid me," Luna said. "He might not interfere on principle, but even then I wouldn't have expected you to risk drawing my father's conscious attention."
"I wouldn't and I'm not. I heard of you, yes, but I stumbled upon you entirely on accident." Quintus smiled humorlessly. "And believe it or not, at the moment your existence is the least stir-worthy. Your purpose, on the other hand..."
Luna inhaled sharply. "The prophecy."
"'Twelve at last pay the greatest price.'" Quintus hummed in agreement. "The reckoning of the Olympians has come at last. Even those who would ordinarily be skeptical over it harbor few doubts - not after that embarrassing display in Hephastus's dumping grounds. Now the beasts are crawling out of the depths to watch the hammer fall, and it promises to quite the display."
"Is that why you helped us?" Luna asked softly.
"Perhaps. I certainly want nothing in return, if that's what you're worried about." Quintus shrugged. "I will not interfere in your quest. Either you fail, and the status quo remains the same, or you succeed, and things get interesting."
There was nothing good about the way he said interesting
"Either way, I have no further stake in this game."
There was another low, meaningful pause.
"Though I suppose I can offer you one last, out of the goodness of my heart." He smiled wearily. "I expect you'll want a way to navigate out of the Labyrinth?"
"No."
Quintus blinked. "No?"
"No," Luna said firmly. Then she reached over, startled Thalia "We're going to help Apollo."
They were going to do what now?
Sure enough, she began to cart Thalia away towards the tunnel where they'd left the collapsed sun god, the harsh blinding glare stinging at their eyes.
Until Luna whispered something under her breath, and a wave of something settled over Thalia's skin. The glow - the part of it she could see - went dim enough to be bearable.
"There's nothing you can do," Quintus called behind them as they left him, but he didn't try to follow them.
Inside, they found Apollo. - Or at least the flickering body that should be Apollo, sprawled across the stone and shifting. With every blink, the features of the body melted and warped into new proportions - old, young, tall, short. His body shivered and pulsed and changed like wet clay that refused to dry.
"Zeus must have been trying to get him out of the way and keep him there. Only he didn't have the time to do it properly and I dragged him in after us as we fell." Luna dropped to her knees beside him. "This is ugly - It's as if his mind's been shattered and he doesn't have enough left to put himself back together."
...
What in Tartarus were they supposed to do about that?
"There's a spell," Luna murmured in answer to her silent question. "A last-ditch effort. Ordinarily I wouldn't dare try this on any immortal, much less a god, but we need him if we want to find the others in the Labyrinth, and we'll need him even more if the other gods come after us again."
Thalia had almost forgotten about that.
"That sounds good." She turned to look at Luna warily. "Not safe. Are you sure this is going to work?"
"Hardly." Luna said bluntly "I'm about to delve into the mind of an Olympian to put his psyche back together before his physical manifestation splinters and kills us all. If I make a single mistake, the sheer force of his unconscious presence will obliterate my mind and likely disintegrate my body. But I don't have any other choice."
...
Well. That was...
"I don't know what the fuck you expect me to say to that." She said, and that was the most honest she'd been all week.
"Bianca and Nico and the others are at stake, so wish me luck and guard my back until this is done." Luna smiled - or at least she tried to. the upward pull to her lips looked forced this time around. "Be wary of Quintus - I don't think he means us harm, but better safe than sorry."
And then she turned around and reached for Apollo's flickering head, ignoring the light and the heat haze shimmering off his skin.
"Legilimens."
...
Nothing happened.
Luna's hands were pressed to Apollo's head, but there was no change to him.
If anything, the heat and the light started to grow slightly worse.
Thalia cleared her throat and tried not to shift back in alarm. "Is something supposed to-"
"̸̡̺̹͚̃̑͗̀̇̕͝Ļ̴̢̼̥̝̝͈̮̫͔̑̐̈̒͐̐̈́͜͝e̵̞̦̎̑̈͆̃͋̏̓̈́̚͜ģ̴̧͈͓͉̩͍̤̩͈̒͋̍̒͌̃̍̾̊͆̊̈́i̴̢̨͕͓̫͙̯̯̬̯͗̈́̽̄̽͆͌̾͌͑̂̀̐̌̎l̴̢̛̪̙͙̞͉͈͍̮̘͚̲͙̀̀̈͐̇̊̊̒͆̄̑̕̕͜ï̴̳͔̹̬̆̓̀̂̕͘m̵̨̥͔̝̥͇̺̌̊͋͂͑̓̍̉̀̿̔e̶̢̛͌̔̍̐͋͋̊͌͘͝͝n̷͔͍̭̰̘̟̙̳̔̃͌͒̑́͘ͅš̶̯͇̦̬̞̺̺̩̺̹̭̝̜͋̏̾͋͜͠͝ͅ.̷̩͙͉͍̦́͂̿͌͝"̴̲͙̩̻̍̽̓̿͊̉̀͊̓̽͐͗
And then there was pain, white-hot and fiery and stabbed right into her brain. It was like nothing she'd ever imagined in her worst nightmare, and Thalia screamed and screamed and burned as she was hooked and pulled along into the fiery ocean that was the fallen god's mind.
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"Quickly now, little heroes." The centaur said lips pulled in a twisted smirk "The master awaits his new entertainment."
Percy considered making a move then, just to be spiteful. He hated it when monsters started to gloat - the general smugness just rubbed salt into the whole 'I'm going to try to gut and probably eat you now' wound, and the fact that most of the ones he'd tangled with tended to have terrible dental hygiene and often had bits of gods know what stuck between their teeth didn't make things any better.
He was still battered and bruised and aching all over, but he'd fought things bigger and meaner than a lone centaur on worse odds. He could feel Riptide pressed against the inside of his jean pocket just fine, and bad shape or no, three feet of celestial bronze at relatively close quarters was a great equalizer.
Then Nico stumbled at his side, and Percy abruptly remembered the real problem - the ten-year-old anvil of a handicap weighing him down.
Percy's eyes flickered to Annabeth on his left, and she shook her head ever so slightly.
Not now, the look in her eyes said, and Percy clenched his fists and hissed a curse under his breath so nasty his mom would have made him gargle soap three times a day for a week just to wash it out if she'd heard.
Neither he nor Annabeth were good enough to fight their way ahead, watch each other's backs and cart Nico to safety with them out of here.
They didn't even know where here was, or if the others were here as well - there was no way they could take the risk.
Damn it.
He forced himself to exhale and turned back to the centaur, whose smirk had grown into a full-blown gleeful grin, complete with - yeah, Percy called it - gnarly yellow teeth.
He'd probably caught that entire exchange and understood exactly what it meant.
"A wise choice. And right on time, too - our escort has arrived."
In front of them, the sound of heavy footsteps came closer. Two huge forms appeared out of the gloom — eight-foot-tall Laistrygonian giants with red eyes and fangs, dressed in pieces of battle-scraped bronze armor and leather cuirasses beneath them.
Somehow, from the hungry looks they gave him, Percy got the impression that these guys weren't on Larry the poultry-extrodinaire's christmas card list.
"Now march."
...
Up ahead, he could see bronze doors. They were about ten feet tall and emblazoned with a pair of crossed swords. From behind them came a muffled roar, like from a crowd.
"Oh, yes," The centaur sounded euphoric in a way that had Percy's stomach roiling - Chrion and the party ponies were a whole other ball game compared to this lunatic. "The games have just begun - the master always loves a fresh fighter."
"Who's your host?" Percy asked.
The centaur barred his teeth in delight "Oh, you'll see. You may very well earn his favor, Percy Jackson. He's your brother, after all."
"My what?"
He wasn't surprised that he knew his name - on some days, it seemed that every half-monstrous creature that ever crawled out of Tartarus knew who he was, but brother?
Immediately he thought of Tyson, but that was impossible.
One of the giants pushed past them then and opened the doors, letting light and cheers rush over them. Then he turned around and picked up Annabeth by her shirt and said, "You stay here."
"Hey!" she protested, but the guy was twice her size and could likely break her in half in the time it took Percy to lunge for him. The other had already put his hand around Nico's neck in silent warning.
"Go on then, demigod. Entertain us. We'll wait here with your friends to make sure you behave yourself as befitting the master's honored brother."
The way he said 'honored' sounded more like 'cursed'. Or maybe 'screwed' - those were almost one and the same.
Percy seethed, but there wasn't a damned thing he could do but play along, and everybody there knew it.
"I got this."
She nodded as much as she could with the grip the Laistrogonian had on her, lips pursing and eyes set in a grim, understanding slant. "Watch your back."
Nico was pale as milk and stiffer than a plank of wood, but he still tried to smile.
"Be careful, Percy."
Then the centaur urged him toward the doorway with a forceful wave of his hand, and Percy walked out onto the floor of an arena.
...
It wasn't the largest arena he'd ever been in, but considering the whole place was enclosed and almost definitely far underground, it was impressive - and that wasn't a compliment.
The dirt floor was circular, just big enough that you could drive a car around the rim if you pulled it really tight. In the center of the arena, a fight was going on between a giant hellhound - easily thrice the size of the one that had attacked him on his first year at Camp, and a dracaena.
Except for the size, the hellhound was more or less exactly what would have expected - a canine wall of bristling dark fur, red eyes and a mouth full of fangs nearly the size of his forearm, but it was the first time he'd seen a dracaena this close.
She wore bronze armor that stopped at her waist, and would've had a beautiful face, except her tongue was forked and her eyes were yellow with black slits for pupils. Below that, where her legs should've been were two massive snake trunks, mottled bronze and green.
She kept moving by a combination of slithering and lunging side to side as if she were on living skis, and she looked terrified. He'd seen and been in enough fights to realize she was trying to flank the hellhound and trying to keep its snapping jaws at bay with thrusts of a javelin, but it kept batting the clumsy jabs away with a paw wider than Percy's head was and snarling rabidly.
And the horribly one-sided battle wasn't the worst of it - not even close. Percy pulled his eyes off it for one second to look at the rest of the arena and nearly seized in panic.
"You've got to be kidding me."
The first tier of seats was twelve feet above the arena floor. Plain stone benches wrapped all the way around, and every seat was full. There were giants, dracaenae, centaurs, and stranger things: bat-winged demons and creatures that seemed half human and half you name it—bird, reptile, insect, mammal - and those were just the ones he could vaguely recognize.
But the creepiest things were the skulls. The arena was full of them. They ringed the edge of the railing. Three-foot-high piles of them decorated the steps between the benches. They grinned from pikes at the back of the stands and hung on chains from the ceiling like horrible chandeliers. Some of them looked very old—nothing but bleached-white bone. Others looked a lot fresher - still heavy with flesh and gore and crawling with writhing maggots-
Gods.
He looked away as his stomach roiled - and got a picture-perfect look at the most damning display of all.
In the middle of all this, proudly displayed on the side of the spectator's wall, was something that made no sense to him—a green banner with the trident of Poseidon in the center.
What was that doing in a horrible place like this?
What did his dad have to do with a horrible place like this?
Sitting below the banner, on a raised, elaborate diseased and in a seat of honor was the largest giant Percy had ever seen before. He must've been fifteen feet tall, easy, and so wide he took up three seats. He wore only a loincloth, like a sumo wrestler. His skin was leathery and dark red and tattooed with blue wave designs.
And his eyes? Black, beady, and naturally, focused dead center on Percy.
When he took a step back and twitched for Riptide in his pocket, still hyper-aware of the other two giants at his back, the one on the throne grinned nastily and turned back down to the fight beneath them.
Right in time for it to end.
The dracaena made to stab at it again. The hellhound slipped past the blow and clamped down on the shaft and heaved with its weight before pulling, yanking the snake woman off her feet and flinging her away like a rag doll. The javelin was knocked out of her grip right as she hit the dirt.
The hellhound snarled victoriously and advanced, hackles raising. The dracaena writhed in fear, but she couldn't get up. One of her arms was badly mangled.
She met Percy's eyes pleadingly "Help!"
He made to move, but a rough hand gripped his shoulder.
"If you value your friends' lives," the same damned centaur said, "you won't interfere. This isn't your fight yet, Jackson. Wait your turn."
Percy clenched his fists, trying to think of something, but it was already too late - The hellhound pounced.
He closed his eyes right as its jaws snapped shut and the arena was filled with the sound of wet, heavy tearing. When he opened them again, the dracaena was gone, disintegrated to dust that poured out from between the hellhound's teeth like golden sand.
The monsters in the stands roared their approval. On cue, a gate opened at the opposite end of the stadium and the hellhound bounded out in triumph.
That's when the red giant rose from his seat and raised his arms. Standing upright, he looked like the world's most monstrous sumo wrestler.
"A poor fighter, but good entertainment!" he bellowed, and the crowd surged with the words "Yet still nothing I haven't seen before! It is time for a new contestant."
He raised an arm and gestured to Percy.
"Mine own brother, Perseus Jackson, stands among us now! Perhaps he will prove mettle worthy of a child of the sea god!"
Percy stared like an idiot.
Tyson was one thing, but this guy?
"How are you a son of Poseidon?"
Which, in hindsight might have been the wrong thing to say, because the giant's expression darkened dangerously.
"I am his favorite son! His truest and most dedicated!" He boomed. "I am Anteus the giant-born! Behold, my temple to the Earthshaker, built from the skulls of all those I've killed in his name! Afford me the proper respect, or yours may soon join them!"
Percy stared in fresh horror at all the skulls—hundreds of them, at least—and the banner of Poseidon.
How could this be a temple for his dad? His dad was a nice guy - or, he was decent, as far as Olympians went.
He'd never ask for a Father's Day card, much less somebody's skull.
So where is he now?, a treacherous voice whispered at the back of his head. Where's Poseidon now, when you need him once again?
"Percy!" Annabeth yelled behind him. "His mother is Gaea! Gae—"
Her Laistrygonian captor clamped his hand over her mouth and cut her off, but Percy heard enough.
His mother is Gaea. The earth goddess. Annabeth was trying to tell him that was important, but Percy didn't know why. Maybe just because the guy had two godly parents. That would make him even harder to kill.
Because clearly, being fifteen feet tall with biceps bigger than basketballs wasn't enough of an advantage already.
"I've heard many a tale of you, fellow son of the sea!" Anteus smiled down from his dias. "Enemies and Allies old and new have sent word to me on your behalf. To kill you, to capture you - even to spare you and aid you on your way!"
What?
"But neither god nor Titan can command the fate of one who has not proved himself in this arena! Only I decide your fate! And so I will!"
Anteus raised a hand, and the gate at the end of the area rose again. This time, an entire horde of monsters marched out of the dark. Dracaena, giants, and some creature that looked like the unholy cross of a seal, a dog and something he didn't even want to imagine - and there were nearly a dozen of them all in all.
"Now, what weapons will you choose?"
"You're crazy, Antaeus," Percy said, but his eyes never left the horde coming his way. "If you think this is a good tribute, you know nothing about Poseidon."
"Ha!" Anteus sneered contemptuously, but he didn't rise to the bait. "Prove your worth and then we may speak, brother. Else your fellow half-bloods will join you in death and all your skulls sacrificed in glory to our father. Now arm yourself! Will you have axes? Shields? Nets? Flamethrowers?"
Percy pulled Riptide out of his pocket.
"Just my sword."
Laughter erupted from the monsters, but immediately Riptide appeared in his hands, and some of the voices in the crowd turned nervous. The bronze blade glowed with a faint light.
Anteus raised his hand for silence, and the arena held its breath.
"Round one!" The giant called gleefully. "Start!"
And just like that, the monsters surged toward him
Dad, He thought - prayed, as quickly as he ever had before, I know you're not supposed to interfere - and I know this quest is probably making things worse, but I'm in a really bad spot and I could use a sign right about now.
Anything.
...
There was no answer.
Somehow, Percy wasn't surprised. Something cold and bitter curled up in his gut, just before the first giant lunged for him with a sword he promptly began fighting for his life.
...
"Well." Luna Lovegood opened her mouth, paused and closed it again as she visibly tried to collect herself. "Well. This is... a mess."
Thalia shot her a look so flat if it had edges it would have cut air.
"You don't friggin say."
"I don't often, no." The other girl agreed, and the daughter of Zeus - and what a riot that turned out to be - twitched so hard blue-white sparks began to flicker between her fingertips. "I like to look on the bright side. Fewer wrackspurts that way.."
See, ignoring whatever that was at the end, that right there was the kind of holier-than though bullshit answer that would ordinarily have Thalia itching to stab someone.
Except, she got the distinct and entirely annoying impression that Lovegood meant it, which was almost as annoying and somehow the least of their problems right now.
"Except." Luna staggered to her feet and nearly tumbled over again. Thalia took a step forward to brace her. "I don't think there is a bright side."
"Quite."
Both of them turned to look at Quintus, who'd crossed his arms and kept to the far end of the abandoned forge ever since Thalia had made it clear she was one wrong move from running him through with her spear and lighting him up like a lamppost.
She'd already tried to, and she would have kept at it too, except that the man had offered ambrosia and nectar for both of them and still hadn't put one toe out of line yet.
"Well, metaphorically of course." The man craned his neck and gestured to the tunnel where they'd left Apollo behind, where the golden glow "I'm afraid that the god of the sun losing control of his material avatar and unraveling is going to be very bright. Cataclysmically so."
That again.
"You were serious." Thalia pursed her lips. "Apollo's about to explode."
"In a sense, yes."
Right. Naturally.
Why the fuck wouldn't he?
"How big an explosion?" She demanded. "Can we outrun it?
Because she was not dying here, like this, with Annabeth, Percy and all the others missing.
She was not dying at her bastard of a father's hand, no matter how indirectly - the great prophecy was one thing, but if the three fates thought they could do her in like this they could fuck right off and take their accursed miserable strings with them.
And Quintus shrugged. "You could walk out of this chamber with me and take five steps in any direction, and you'd find yourself clear of any danger. Unless you know exactly what you're doing, distance means very little in the Labyrinth."
The name niggled at her mind, but she didn't get to voice the obvious question - Luna beat her to it.
"I guess you'd know best, wouldn't you?" The other girl had finally pulled her concerned gaze off the literally melting god long enough to pin the shady ally of circumstance with a look. "Quintus."
There was a long pause, and the man abruptly went ramrod straight. Thalia snarled on instinct and hefted her spear.
"You know."
"I do." Luna seemed to understand whatever context it was that flew clear over Thalia's head. "My father makes a habit of teaching me all about the most notorious living souls determined to fly the final coup. You're near the top of that list."
"... I see." He whispered. "So it is true. I'd hardly believed it. Luna Lovegood... the daughter of Thanatos."
Luna pursed her lips. "That secret spread quickly."
"Secrets often do. And the more valuable they are, the faster they travel." The man regarded her grimly. "Of course, having the right informants helps too. And I have plenty - there are a great many forces searching for you, Miss Lovegood. You, and all your fellow questors."
"Is that how you found us?" Thalia growled, mostly to hide the fact that nearly every word in this conversation was loaded with implications that were flying clear over her head.
"I would have thought you of all people would seek to avoid me," Luna said. "He might not interfere on principle, but even then I wouldn't have expected you to risk drawing my father's conscious attention."
"I wouldn't and I'm not. I heard of you, yes, but I stumbled upon you entirely on accident." Quintus smiled humorlessly. "And believe it or not, at the moment your existence is the least stir-worthy. Your purpose, on the other hand..."
Luna inhaled sharply. "The prophecy."
"'Twelve at last pay the greatest price.'" Quintus hummed in agreement. "The reckoning of the Olympians has come at last. Even those who would ordinarily be skeptical over it harbor few doubts - not after that embarrassing display in Hephastus's dumping grounds. Now the beasts are crawling out of the depths to watch the hammer fall, and it promises to quite the display."
"Is that why you helped us?" Luna asked softly.
"Perhaps. I certainly want nothing in return, if that's what you're worried about." Quintus shrugged. "I will not interfere in your quest. Either you fail, and the status quo remains the same, or you succeed, and things get interesting."
There was nothing good about the way he said interesting
"Either way, I have no further stake in this game."
There was another low, meaningful pause.
"Though I suppose I can offer you one last, out of the goodness of my heart." He smiled wearily. "I expect you'll want a way to navigate out of the Labyrinth?"
"No."
Quintus blinked. "No?"
"No," Luna said firmly. Then she reached over, startled Thalia "We're going to help Apollo."
They were going to do what now?
Sure enough, she began to cart Thalia away towards the tunnel where they'd left the collapsed sun god, the harsh blinding glare stinging at their eyes.
Until Luna whispered something under her breath, and a wave of something settled over Thalia's skin. The glow - the part of it she could see - went dim enough to be bearable.
"There's nothing you can do," Quintus called behind them as they left him, but he didn't try to follow them.
Inside, they found Apollo. - Or at least the flickering body that should be Apollo, sprawled across the stone and shifting. With every blink, the features of the body melted and warped into new proportions - old, young, tall, short. His body shivered and pulsed and changed like wet clay that refused to dry.
"Zeus must have been trying to get him out of the way and keep him there. Only he didn't have the time to do it properly and I dragged him in after us as we fell." Luna dropped to her knees beside him. "This is ugly - It's as if his mind's been shattered and he doesn't have enough left to put himself back together."
...
What in Tartarus were they supposed to do about that?
"There's a spell," Luna murmured in answer to her silent question. "A last-ditch effort. Ordinarily I wouldn't dare try this on any immortal, much less a god, but we need him if we want to find the others in the Labyrinth, and we'll need him even more if the other gods come after us again."
Thalia had almost forgotten about that.
"That sounds good." She turned to look at Luna warily. "Not safe. Are you sure this is going to work?"
"Hardly." Luna said bluntly "I'm about to delve into the mind of an Olympian to put his psyche back together before his physical manifestation splinters and kills us all. If I make a single mistake, the sheer force of his unconscious presence will obliterate my mind and likely disintegrate my body. But I don't have any other choice."
...
Well. That was...
"I don't know what the fuck you expect me to say to that." She said, and that was the most honest she'd been all week.
"Bianca and Nico and the others are at stake, so wish me luck and guard my back until this is done." Luna smiled - or at least she tried to. the upward pull to her lips looked forced this time around. "Be wary of Quintus - I don't think he means us harm, but better safe than sorry."
And then she turned around and reached for Apollo's flickering head, ignoring the light and the heat haze shimmering off his skin.
"Legilimens."
...
Nothing happened.
Luna's hands were pressed to Apollo's head, but there was no change to him.
If anything, the heat and the light started to grow slightly worse.
Thalia cleared her throat and tried not to shift back in alarm. "Is something supposed to-"
"̸̡̺̹͚̃̑͗̀̇̕͝Ļ̴̢̼̥̝̝͈̮̫͔̑̐̈̒͐̐̈́͜͝e̵̞̦̎̑̈͆̃͋̏̓̈́̚͜ģ̴̧͈͓͉̩͍̤̩͈̒͋̍̒͌̃̍̾̊͆̊̈́i̴̢̨͕͓̫͙̯̯̬̯͗̈́̽̄̽͆͌̾͌͑̂̀̐̌̎l̴̢̛̪̙͙̞͉͈͍̮̘͚̲͙̀̀̈͐̇̊̊̒͆̄̑̕̕͜ï̴̳͔̹̬̆̓̀̂̕͘m̵̨̥͔̝̥͇̺̌̊͋͂͑̓̍̉̀̿̔e̶̢̛͌̔̍̐͋͋̊͌͘͝͝n̷͔͍̭̰̘̟̙̳̔̃͌͒̑́͘ͅš̶̯͇̦̬̞̺̺̩̺̹̭̝̜͋̏̾͋͜͠͝ͅ.̷̩͙͉͍̦́͂̿͌͝"̴̲͙̩̻̍̽̓̿͊̉̀͊̓̽͐͗
And then there was pain, white-hot and fiery and stabbed right into her brain. It was like nothing she'd ever imagined in her worst nightmare, and Thalia screamed and screamed and burned as she was hooked and pulled along into the fiery ocean that was the fallen god's mind.
...
As always, leave your comments and ideas and if you don't like it please be courteous.
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Lucho9
Viva la vida
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She is getting used to Luna! Yey!
Nathaniel Carrion
NatetheGreat
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ArcanaVitae
Versed in the lewd.
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Percy isn't really happy about meeting his brother and I don't think anyone can really blame him for that.
Quintus/Daedalus is happy that they Olympians are finally getting what's coming to them but he's planing on staying out of it. He seems interested in Luna's status as a daughter of Thanatos and does seem to understandably want to avoid her father.
Luna piecing Apollo's mind back together is insanely dangerous, risky and badass.
Quintus/Daedalus is happy that they Olympians are finally getting what's coming to them but he's planing on staying out of it. He seems interested in Luna's status as a daughter of Thanatos and does seem to understandably want to avoid her father.
Luna piecing Apollo's mind back together is insanely dangerous, risky and badass.
DiabolicGod
Getting out there.
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Pretty good, hope you finish the story
I do wonder what Luna really is in the context of monster, man, and god. After all we know she was adopted by Thanatos instead of being born normally to him. Was she made a demigoddess by him or is she just a new (to this world) kind of witch? How did Grover sense her at the start?
Luna could theoretically be a newborn spirit/monster/goddess/whatever based on the introduction afterall.
I do wonder what Luna really is in the context of monster, man, and god. After all we know she was adopted by Thanatos instead of being born normally to him. Was she made a demigoddess by him or is she just a new (to this world) kind of witch? How did Grover sense her at the start?
Luna could theoretically be a newborn spirit/monster/goddess/whatever based on the introduction afterall.
Shaedy Hoe
Thicc Shaedy
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*his
*move away from running him through
Great chapter, man.