𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

chapter seventy-two. ☄︎. *. ⋆

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MY INTERNAL MONOLOGUE as my ex-girlfriend led me and the guy who always wants to kiss me to the basement of a random hotel in the middle of Times Square was something along the lines of UGH. OH MY GODS. THIS IS LITERALLY WORSE THAN HELL. But I won't subdue you to having to deal with all that, so I'll just tell you what happened in a quick summary.

Rachel took us down to a dank basement full of dirty towels and bedsheets and things. The door was hidden behind a laundry bin full of dirty comforters. At first, I didn't see anything strange about it, but as I looked closer I could recognize the faint blue symbol etched into the metal.

"It hasn't been used in a while," I mumbled, basically to myself since I was pretty sure Percy and Rachel were making goo-goo eyes to each other behind my back. Suddenly angry, I spun around, hoping to interrupt them. "Has anyone ever opened it?"

"I tried once." Rachel shrugged. "It's rusted shut."

I tried not to look too smug. "No. It just needs the touch of a half-blood."

Sure enough, as soon as I put my hand on the mark, it glowed blue. The metal door unsealed and creaked open, revealing a dark staircase leading down.

"Wow." Rachel looked calm, but I couldn't tell if she was pretending or not. She'd changed into a ratty Museum of Modern Art T-shirt and jeans covered in paint marks, a blue plastic hairbrush sticking out of her pocket. Her red hair was tied back. "So... after you?"

"You're the guide," I said with mock politeness. "Lead on."

The stairs led down to a large brick tunnel. It was so dark I couldn't see two feet in front of us, but Percy and I had restocked on flashlights. As soon as we switched them on, Rachel yelped.

A skeleton was grinning at us. It wasn't human. It was huge, for one thing—at least ten feet tall. It had been strung up, chained by its wrists and ankles so it made a kind of giant X over the tunnel. But what really sent a shiver down my back was the single black eye socket in the center of its skull.

"A Cyclops," I said, swallowing. "It's.. really old. It's not—not anybody we know."

It wasn't Tyson, I meant. I felt like it had been put here as a warning. Whatever could kill a grown Cyclops, I didn't want to meet.

Rachel swallowed. "You have a friend who's a Cyclops?"

I shot her a glare. "Got a problem with that?"

"Tyson," Percy said over me. "My half-brother."

"Your half-brother?"

"Hopefully we'll find him down here," Percy said. "And Grover. He's a satyr."

"Oh." Her voice was small. "Well then, we'd better keep moving."

She stepped under the skeleton's left arm and kept walking. Percy and I exchanged looks. I shrugged. We followed Rachel deeper into the maze.

After fifty feet we came to a crossroads. Ahead, the brick tunnel continued. To the right, the walls were made of ancient marble slabs. To the left, the tunnel was dirt and tree roots.

Percy pointed left. "That looks like the tunnel Tyson and Grover took."

I frowned. "But the architecture to the right is older. More ancient-looking. It's more likely to lead to an older part of the maze. Namely Daedalus's workshop."

"We need to go straight," Rachel said.

Percy and I both looked at her.

"That's the least likely choice," I scoffed.

"You don't see it?" Rachel asked. "Look at the floor."

I saw nothing except well-worn bricks and mud.

"There's a brightness there," Rachel insisted. "Very faint. But forward is the correct way. To the left, farther down the tunnel, those tree roots are moving like feelers. I don't like that. To the right, there's a trap about twenty feet down. Holes in the walls, maybe for spikes. I don't think we should risk it."

Percy didn't need anymore convincing. "Okay. Forward."

"You believe her?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said. "Don't you?"

I wanted to argue, but decided against it and instead waved at Rachel to lead on. Together we kept walking down the brick corridor. It twisted and turned, but there were no more side tunnels. We seemed to be angling down, heading deeper underground.

"No traps?" Percy asked anxiously.

"Nothing." Rachel knit her eyebrows. "Should it be this easy?"

"No," I admitted. I gazed around, peering at the walls, waiting for something to jump out and kill us, but nothing did. I frowned. "Why is it so much calmer this time?"

Before anyone could answer, there was a creaking noise in front of us, like huge doors opening.

"What was that?" Percy asked.

"I don't know," Rachel said. "Metal hinges."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, that's helpful."

Then I heard heavy footsteps shaking the corridor— coming toward us.

"Run?" Percy asked.

"Run," Rachel and I agreed.

We turned and fled the way we'd come, but we didn't make it twenty feet before we ran straight into some new friends. Two dracaenae—snake women in Greek armor—leveled their javelins at our chests. Standing between them was an empousa wearing a cheerleader's outfit. I recognized her as the one from my dream a few nights ago—from Geryon's ranch.

"Well, well," the cheerleader-empousa said, like she knew Percy already.

Percy uncapped Riptide, and I pulled my bow; but before I even had an arrow nocked, the empousa pounced on Rachel. Her hand turned into a claw and she spun Rachel around, holding her tight with her talons at Rachel's neck.

"Taking your little mortal pet for a walk?" the monster asked us. "They're such fragile things. So easy to break!"

Behind us, the footsteps came closer. A huge form appeared out of the gloom—an eight-foot-tall Laistrygonian giant with red eyes and fangs.

The giant licked his lips when he saw us. "Can I eat them?"

"No," the empousa said. "Your master will want these. They will provide a great deal of entertainment." She smiled at us. "Now march, half-bloods. Or you all die here, starting with the mortal girl."

It was pretty much my worst nightmare. And believe me, I've had plenty of nightmares. We were marched down the tunnel flanked by dracaenae, with the empousa and the giant in back, just in case we tried to run for it. Nobody seemed to worry about us running forward. That was the direction they wanted us to go.

     Up ahead I could see bronze doors. They were about ten feet tall, emblazoned with a pair of crossed swords. From behind them came a muffled roar, like from a crowd.

     "Oh, yessssss," said the snake woman on my left. "You'll be very popular with our hossssst."

     "Who's your host?" Percy asked.

     She hissed, which might have been a laugh. "Oh, you'll sssssee. You'll get along famousssly. He'ssss your brother, after all."

     I choked. "His what?" Immediately I thought of Tyson, but that was impossible. What was she talking about?

     The giant pushed past us and opened the doors. He picked me up by my shirt and said, "You stay here."

     "Hey!" I protested, but the guy was twice my size and he'd already confiscated my bow and arrows.

     The empousa laughed. She still had her claws at Rachel's neck. "Go on, Percy. Entertain us. We'll wait here with your friends to make sure you behave."

     As he was whisked into a large gladiator arena by the monster guards, Percy looked at Rachel regretfully. "I'm sorry. I'll get you out of this."

This was the moment in which I came to the decision that I fucking hate Percy Jackson.

Anyway, this wasn't the largest arena I'd ever seen, but it seemed pretty spacious considering the whole place was underground. 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 and a centaur. The centaur looked panicked. He was galloping around his enemy, using sword and shield, while the giant swung a javelin the size of a telephone pole and the crowd cheered.

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, demigods, telekhines, and stranger things: bat-winged demons and creatures that seemed half human and half you name it—bird, reptile, insect, mammal.

     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. I'm not going to describe them. Believe me, you don't want me to.

In the middle of all this, proudly displayed on the side of the spectator's wall, was something that made no sense to me—a green banner with the trident of Poseidon in the center. What was that doing in a horrible place like this?

Above the banner, sitting in a seat of honor, was an old enemy.

Despite my anger, I couldn't deny how shocked I was. "Luke?"

There was no way he could have heard me—actually, I didn't think he even knew I was there—but he smiled coldly. He was wearing camouflage pants, a white T-shirt, and bronze breastplate, just like I'd seen in my dream. But he still wasn't wearing his sword, which I thought was strange. Next to him sat the largest giant I'd ever seen, much larger than the one on the floor fighting the centaur. The giant next to Luke 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 dark red and tattooed with blue wave designs. I figured he must be Luke's new bodyguard or something.

There was a cry from the arena floor, and Percy jumped back as the centaur crashed to the dirt beside him.

Percy reached for his sword, but the empousa had taken our weapons, and Riptide must've been taking its time to reappear in his pocket.

The centaur struggled to get up as the giant approached, his javelin ready.

The centaur couldn't get up. One of his legs was broken. The giant put his huge foot on the horseman's chest and raised the javelin. He looked up at Luke. The crowd cheered, "DEATH! DEATH!"

Luke didn't do anything, but the tattooed sumo dude sitting next to him rose. He smiled down at the centaur, who was whimpering, "Please! No!"

Then the sumo dude held out his hand and gave the thumbs down sign.

I closed my eyes as the gladiator giant thrust his javelin. My stomach twisted. When I looked again, the centaur was gone, disintegrated to ashes. All that was left was a single hoof, which the giant took up as a trophy and showed the crowd. They roared their approval.

A gate opened at the opposite end of the stadium and the giant marched out in triumph.

In the stands, the sumo dude raised his hands for silence. "Good entertainment!" he bellowed. "But nothing I haven't seen before. What else do you have, Luke, Son of Hermes?"

Luke's jaw tightened. I could tell he didn't like being called son of Hermes. But he rose calmly to his feet. His eyes glittered. In fact, he seemed to be in a pretty good mood.

"Lord Antaeus," Luke said, loud enough for the crowd to hear. "You have been an excellent host! We would be happy to amuse you, to repay the favor of passing through your territory."

"A favor I have not yet granted," Antaeus growled. "I want entertainment!"

Luke bowed. "I believe I have something better than centaurs to fight in your arena now. I have a brother of yours." He pointed to Percy. "Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon."

The crowd began jeering at Percy and throwing stones, most of which he dodged, but one caught him on the cheek and made a good-sized cut.

Antaeus's eyes lit up. "A son of Poseidon? Then he should fight well! Or die well!"

"If his death pleases you," Luke said, "will you let our armies cross your territory?"

"Perhaps!" Antaeus said.

Luke didn't look too pleased about the "perhaps." He glared down at Percy, as if warning him that he'd better die in a really spectacular way or he'd be in big trouble.

"Luke!" I yelled, angrily. "Luke, let us go!"

Luke seemed to notice me for the first time. He looked stunned for a moment. He mouthed "Tiny?" like he couldn't believe it was me.

Unfortunately, I caught Anataeus's attention, too. His face split into an unsettling grin. "Another half-blood?" he asked Luke, his words shaking with excitement.

Luke swallowed. "Just a daughter of Apollo," he replied. "Not as powerful. She'd make a boring fight."

     "Nonsense!" Anataeus bellowed, spreading his arms. "They shall host an entertaining battle!"

     Both Percy and I froze. Luke seemed to be thinking the same thing as us. "You mean.. both of them?"

     Anataeus grinned. "Of course! You've brought me two half-bloods, Luke. Why not add to the entertainment?"

     One of the dracaena guards prodded me toward the center of the arena at javelin-point. I stumbled, gazing around at the full crowd around me. Suddenly I wasn't mad at Percy anymore.

     "These two younglings shall fight together!" Anataeus yelled over the roaring of the crowd. "The victors shall be crowned!"

     "Something tells me being 'crowned' means being killed," Percy said to me.

     I nodded. "Probably. Look, Percy, Anataeus—he's the son of Poseidon and Gaea. The—"

     "Choose your weapons!" Anataeus bellowed down at us. "And then the battles will begin. Will you have axes? Shields? Nets?"

     Percy gave me a grim look. "Just my sword."

     I lifted my chin. "My bow and arrow."

Laughter erupted from the monsters, but immediately Riptide appeared in Percy's hands and my bow was slung over my shoulder, and some of the voices in the crowd turned nervous. Percy's bronze blade glowed with a faint light.

"Round one!" Anataeus announced. The gates opened, and a dracaena slithered out. She had a trident in one hand and a weighted net in the other—classic gladiator style. We'd trained against those weapons at camp for years.

She jabbed at me experimentally. I stepped away. She threw her net at Percy, hoping to distract him. He sidestepped easily, sliced her spear in half, and stabbed Riptide through a hole in her armor. With a painful wail, she vaporized into nothing, and the cheering of the crowd died.

"No!" Antaeus bellowed. "Too fast! You must wait for the kill. Only I give that order!"

     "This is pointless," I muttered, lowering my bow to my side. "We need to get out of here."

     "You're telling me," Percy replied, huffing. He lifted his eyes to Anataeus. "Bring out round two, big guy!"

     "Round two!" Antaeus yelled. "And slower this time! More entertainment! Wait for my call before killing anybody, OR ELSE!"

     The gates opened again, and this time a young warrior came out. He was a little older than us, about eighteen. He had glossy black hair, and his left eye was covered with an eye patch. He was thin and wiry so his Greek armor hung on him loosely. He stabbed his sword into the dirt, adjusted his shield straps, and pulled on his horsehair helmet.

     "Who are you?" Percy asked, but I realized quickly.

     "Oh my gods," I muttered. "Ethan?"

     "Scott," he replied haughtily. "Lucky I've got the pleasure of killing you."

     "You two know each other?" Percy asked, looking between us. A look of realization dawned on him. "Don't tell me you guys used to date, too."

     "No, please," I scoffed. "Nakamura had a crush on me for a while, though."

     "Did not," he spat.

     "Can you stop bickering and KILL EACH OTHER?" Anataeus roared.

     "Why are you working for them?" Percy asked quickly.

     "I have to prove myself," Ethan told Percy. "Only way to join up."

     And with that he charged. His and Percy's swords met in midair and the crowd roared. It didn't seem right. I didn't want to fight to entertain a bunch of monsters, but Ethan wasn't giving me much choice.

     He pressed forward, onto Percy. He was good. He parried Percy's strike and almost slammed him with his shield, but Percy jumped back. He slashed. Percy rolled to one side. They exchanged thrusts and parries, getting a feel for each other's fighting style. Percy tried to keep on Ethan's blind side, but it didn't help much. He'd been fighting with only one eye for a long time, because he was excellent at guarding his left.

     "Blood!" the monsters cried.

     I took distance, striding to the other side of the arena to get behind Ethan's back. I took aim and shot, but he somehow sensed it coming and threw Percy back so he took the hit. My arrow pierced him right through the shoulder. He yelled in pain and stumbled back. I cursed, loudly, drew another arrow, and shot it with amazing speed. This one took Ethan right across the ear. Blood dripped onto his shoulder.

     He winced, and Percy took his chance to use his good arm to lock Ethan's sword hilt and twist it out of his grasp. I dashed over. Percy was too hurt to carry on, so I held out my hand and he tossed me Riptide.

     I adjusted the sword in my grip and slammed the butt of it into Ethan's helmet and pushed him down. He fell on his back, dazed and tired. I put the tip of Percy's sword on his chest.

     "Get it over with," Ethan groaned.

     I looked up at Antaeus. His red face was stony with displeasure, but he held up his hand and put it thumbs down.

     "Forget it." I tossed Percy back his sword and he sheathed it.

     "Don't be a fool," Ethan groaned. "They'll just kill us all."

     I offered him my hand. Reluctantly, he took it. I helped him up.

     "No one dishonors the games!" Antaeus bellowed. "Your heads shall be tributes to Poseidon!"

     I looked at Ethan. "When you see your chance, run." Then I turned back to Antaeus. "Why don't you fight us yourself? If you've got Poseidon's favor, come down here and prove it!"

     The monsters grumbled in the stands. Antaeus looked around, and apparently realized he had no choice. He couldn't say no without looking like a coward.

"I am the greatest wrestler in the world, half-bloods," he warned. "I have been wrestling since the first pankration!"

"Pankration?" Percy asked.

"He means fighting to the death," Ethan said. "No rules. No holds barred. It used to be an Olympic sport."

"Thanks for the tip."

"Don't mention it."

Percy pointed his sword at Antaeus. "Winner takes all! We win, we all go free. You win, we die. Swear upon the River Styx."

Antaeus laughed. "This shouldn't take long. I swear to your terms!"

He leaped off the railing, into the arena.

"Good luck," Ethan told us. "You'll need it." Then he backed up quickly.

Antaeus cracked his knuckles. He grinned, and I saw that even his teeth were etched in wave patterns, which must've made brushing after meals a real pain.

"Weapons?" he asked.

"I've got mine," I said, lifting my bow again.

"I'll stick with my sword. You?"

He held up his huge hands and wiggled his fingers. "I don't need anything else! Master Luke, you will referee this one."

Luke smiled down at us. "With pleasure."

Antaeus lunged. Percy rolled under his legs and stabbed him in the back of his thigh. "Argggh!" he yelled. But where blood should've come out, there was a spout of sand, like Percy had busted the side of an hourglass. It spilled into the dirt floor, and the dirt collected around his leg, almost like a cast. When the dirt fell away, the wound was gone.

He charged again. Fortunately we'd had some experience fighting giants. Percy dodged sideways this time and stabbed him under the arm. Riptide's blade was buried to the hilt in his ribs. That was the good news. The bad news was that it wrenched out of Percy's hand when the giant turned, and he was thrown across the arena, weaponless.

Antaeus bellowed in pain. I waited for him to disintegrate. No monster had ever withstood a direct hit from Riptide like that. The celestial bronze blade had to be destroying his essence. But Antaeus groped for the hilt, pulled out the sword, and tossed it behind him. More sand poured from the wound, but again the earth rose up to cover him. Dirt coated his body all the way to his shoulders. As soon as the dirt spilled away, Antaeus was fine.

"Now you see why I never lose, demigods," he gloated. "Now come here and let me crush you. I'll make it quick!"

Percy wasn't doing too well. Being thrown across the arena while bleeding out of his shoulder was clearly taking a lot out of him. I felt a rush of adrenaline and a chill up my spine. Immediately, I felt energized. It didn't take me long to know what the cause was; I'd never felt it in action before, but this must have been the blessing Artemis had given me over the winter.

I glanced up at the chains hanging from the ceiling, dangling the skulls of his enemies on hooks. Suddenly I had an idea.

The earth, I thought. Antaeus's mother was Gaea the earth mother, the most ancient goddess of all. Antaeus's father might have been Poseidon, but Gaea was keeping him alive. Percy couldn't hurt him as long as he was touching the ground.

Anataeus was still paying attention to Percy, not worried for even a moment about me, which I felt was a bit sexist, but it helped me out.

I dashed to the wall circling the arena. With agility that surprised even myself, I found holes in the stone wall that were big enough for my hands and feet and hoisted myself up. I climbed until I figured I had a good angle. Then, slinging my bow over my shoulder and praying hopelessly to Artemis, I jumped.

My fingers scrambled desperately for a grasp. I caught the top of a chain, and the skulls and hooks jangled beneath me. I wrapped my legs around the chain, just like I used to do at the ropes course in gym class. I drew my dagger and sawed off the chain next to me.

He was advancing on Percy. I had to hurry. My weight began to drag down the chain I was holding onto and I used it to my advantage, dipping just low enough to grab the loincloth of Anataeus's pants. I hooked my chain onto it and pulled the chain next to me with all my might. We shot up, my feet inches above Anataeus's face.

I'd taken him by surprise. He bellowed, looking up, startled. I gave him a smile. "Welcome aboard Scott Airlines. We hope you enjoy your flight, and please don't get altitude sickness."

I put all my strength into yanking the other chain again, and this time I hopped onto it so I was level with Anataeus. Before he could make a reach for me, I drove my dagger into his neck. He bellowed, and sand poured out, but he was too far up to touch the earth, and the dirt did not rise to help him. Antaeus just dissolved, pouring out bit by bit, until there was nothing left but empty swinging chains, a really big loincloth on a hook, and a bunch of grinning skulls dancing above me like they finally had something to smile about.

I dropped to the ground, panting and sweaty. My hands were raw from climbing. I rushed over to Percy. Thankfully, he didn't look too bad.

"Scott!" Luke's voice echoed across the entire arena. "I should have killed you long ago!"

"You tried," I reminded him. "Many times. Let us go, Luke. We had a sworn agreement with Antaeus. We're the winners."

He did just what I expected. He said, "Antaeus is dead. His oath dies with him. But since I'm feeling merciful today, I'll have you killed quickly."

Every monster in the audience drew a weapon or extended its claws. We were trapped. Hopelessly outnumbered.

Percy grabbed my arm. He thrusted something into my hands. It was a cold sensation, sharp and fragile in my grasp. I looked down to see a small whistle made of ice in my palm.

"Blow," he told me.

So I did. It made no audible sound as it shattered into shards of ice, melting in my hand.

Luke laughed. "What was that supposed to do?"

     "Yeah," I muttered to Percy. "What was that supposed to do?"

From behind me came a surprised yelp. The Laistrygonian giant who'd been guarding Rachel flew past me and smashed into the wall.

Then I heard something funny—it almost sounded like a dog.

The cheerleader empousa screamed as a five-hundred-pound black mastiff picked her up like a chew toy and tossed her through the air, straight into Luke's lap. Mrs. O'Leary snarled, and the two dracaenae guards backed away. For a moment the monsters in the audience were caught completely by surprise.

"Let's go!" I yelled at my friends. I supported Percy with all my weight, holding him against my side. He was sweaty and hot and bleeding, but he was okay, and that was all I cared about.

"Mrs. O'Leary!" he called, and the hellhound began to follow him immediately.

"The far exit!" Rachel cried. "That's the right way!"

Ethan Nakamura took his cue. Together we raced across the arena and out the far exit, Mrs. O'Leary right behind us. As we ran, I could hear the disorganized sounds of an entire army trying to jump out of the stands and follow us.