𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

chapter seventy-four. ☄︎. *. ⋆

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I PRESSED THE SYMBOL on the doors and they hissed open.

     "So much for ancient architecture," Percy said.

     I scowled. Together we walked inside.

     The first thing that struck me was the daylight—blazing sun coming through giant windows. Not the kind of thing you expect in the heart of a dungeon. The workshop was like an artist's studio, with thirty-foot ceilings and industrial lighting, polished stone floors, and workbenches along with windows. A spiral staircase led up to a second-story loft. Half a dozen easels displayed hand-drawn diagrams for buildings and machines that looked like Leonardo da Vinci sketches. Several laptop computers were scattered around on the tables. Glass jars of green oil— Greek fire—lined one shelf. There were inventions, too— weird metal machines I couldn't make sense of. One was a bronze chair with a bunch of electrical wires attached to it, like some kind of torture device. In another corner stood a giant metal egg about the size of a man. There was a grandfather clock that appeared to be made entirely of glass, so you could see all the gears turning. And hanging on the wall were several sets of bronze and silver wings.

     "Zeus almighty," I muttered. I moved to the nearest easel and looked at the sketch. "He's a genius."

     "And an artist," Rachel said in amazement. "These wings are amazing!"

     The wings looked more advanced than the ones I'd seen in any illustrations of Daedalus's myth. The feathers were more tightly interwoven, and instead of wax seals, self-adhesive strips ran down the sides. I figured that was for good reason.

     I kept an arrow nocked in my bow. Apparently Daedalus was not at home, but the workshop looked like it had been recently used. The laptops were running their screen savers. A half-eaten blueberry muffin and a coffee cup sat on a workbench.

     I walked to the window. The view outside was amazing. I recognized the Rocky Mountains in the distance.

     "Woah, look at those rocky mountains," Percy said in wonder.

     I looked to him, deadpanning, "You mean the Rocky Mountains?"

     We were high up in the foothills, at least five hundred feet, and down below a valley spread out, filled with a tumbled collection of red mesas and boulders and spires of stone. It looked like some huge kid had been building a toy city with skyscraper-size blocks, and then decided to knock it over.

"Where are we?" Percy asked.

"Colorado Springs," a voice said behind us. "The Garden of the Gods."

Standing on the spiral staircase above us, with his weapon drawn, was our missing sword master Quintus.

"You," I said, lifting my bow and aiming it at him. "What have you done with Daedalus?"

Quintus smiled faintly. "Trust me, my dear. You don't want to meet him."

"Look, traitor," I growled, "I didn't fight a dragon woman and a three-bodied man and a psychotic Sphinx and a Percy's giant older brother to see you. Now—where—is—Daedalus?"

Quintus came down the stairs, holding his sword at his side. He was dressed in jeans and boots and his counselor's T-shirt from Camp Half-Blood, which seemed like an insult now that we knew he was a spy.

"You think I'm an agent of Kronos," he said. "That I work for Luke."

I scowled. "Um, yeah."

"You're an intelligent girl," he said. "But you're wrong. I work only for myself."

"Luke mentioned you," Percy said. "Geryon knew about you, too. You've been to his ranch."

"Of course," he said. "I've been almost everywhere. Even here."

"How cryptic," I deadpanned. I adjusted my grip on my bow. "But you have three seconds to either tell me where Daedalus is, or give me a reason not to send this arrow right through your heart."

Quintus stared at me, bemused, almost like he was confused by my presence. "Dear, dear," he said, clicking his tongue. "You need a lesson from your mortal friend here on how to see clearly. I am Daedalus."

After a long pause, Percy was the first to speak. "But you're not an inventor! You're a swordsman!"

"I am both," Quintus agreed. "And an architect. And a scholar. I also play basketball pretty well for a guy who didn't start until he was two thousand years old. A real artist must be good at many things."

"That's true," Rachel said. "Like I can paint with my feet as well as my hands."

"You see?" Quintus said. "A girl of many talents."

"But you don't even look like Daedalus," Percy protested. "I saw him in a dream, and..." Suddenly his face fell, like a horrible thought dawned on him.

"Yes," Quintus said. "You've finally guessed the truth."

"You're an automaton. You made yourself a new body."

"Percy," I said uneasily, "that's not possible. That—he can't be an automaton."

Quintus chuckled. "Do you know what Quintus means, my dear?"

"The fifth, in Latin. But—"

"This is my fifth body." The swordsman held out his forearm. He pressed his elbow and part of his wrist popped open—a rectangular hatch in his skin. Underneath, bronze gears whirred. Wires glowed.

"That's amazing!" Rachel said.

"That's weird," Percy said.

"You found a way to transfer your animus into a machine?" I said. "That's... not natural. It shouldn't be possible."

"Oh, I assure you, my dear, it's still me. I'm still very much Daedalus. My mother, Athena, makes sure I never forget that." He tugged back the collar of his shirt. At the base of his neck was the mark I'd seen before—the dark shape of a bird grafted to his skin.

"A murderer's brand," I murmured.

"For your nephew, Perdix," Percy guessed. "The boy you pushed off the tower."

Quintus's face darkened. "I did not push him. I simply—"

"Made him lose his balance," Percy said. "Let him die."

Quintus gazed out the windows at the purple mountains. "I regret what I did, Percy. I was angry and bitter. But I cannot take it back, and Athena never lets me forget. As Perdix died, she turned him into a small bird—a partridge. She branded the bird's shape on my neck as a reminder. No matter what body I take, the brand appears on my skin."

I looked into his eyes, and I realized he was the same man I'd seen in my dreams. His face might be totally different, but the same soul was in there—the same intelligence and all the sadness.

"You really are Daedalus," I decided. "But why did you come to the camp? Why spy on us?"

"To see if your camp was worth saving. Luke had given me one story. I preferred to come to my own conclusions."

"So you have talked to Luke."

"Oh, yes. Several times. He is quite persuasive."

"But now you've seen the camp!" Percy persisted. "So you know we need your help. You can't let Luke through the maze!"

Daedalus set his sword on the workbench. "The maze is no longer mine to control, Percy. I created it, yes. In fact, it is tied to my life force. But I have allowed it to live and grow on its own. That is the price I paid for privacy."

"Privacy from what?"

"The gods," he said. "And death. I have been alive for two millennia, child, hiding from death."

"But how can you hide from Hades?" Percy asked. "I mean... Hades has the Furies."

"They do not know everything," he said. "Or see everything. You have encountered them, Percy. You know this is true. A clever man can hide quite a long time, and I have buried myself very deep. Only my greatest enemy has kept after me, and even him I have thwarted."

"You mean Minos," I said.

Daedalus nodded. "He hunts for me relentlessly. Now that he is a judge of the dead, he would like nothing better than for me to come before him so he can punish me for my crimes. After the daughters of Cocalus killed him, Minos's ghost began torturing me in my dreams. He promised that he would hunt me down. I did the only thing I could. I retreated from the world completely. I descended into my Labyrinth. I decided this would be my ultimate accomplishment: I would cheat death."

"And you did," I said, somewhat impressed, despite myself, "for two thousand years."

Just then a loud bark echoed from the corridor. I heard the rhythmic thumping of huge paws, and Mrs. O'Leary bounded into the workshop. She licked my face once, then almost knocked Percy over with an enthusiastic leap.

"There is my old friend!" Daedalus said, scratching Mrs. O'Leary behind the ears. "My only companion all these long lonely years."

"You let her save us," Percy said. "That whistle actually worked."

Daedalus nodded. "Of course it did, Percy. You have a good heart. And I knew Mrs. O'Leary liked you. I wanted to help you. Perhaps I—I felt guilty, as well."

"Guilty about what?"

"That your quest would be in vain."

"What?" I said. "But you can still help us. Give us Ariadne's string so Luke can't get it."

"Yes... the string. I told Luke that the eyes of a clear-sighted mortal are the best guide, but he did not trust me. He was so focused on the idea of a magic item. And the string works. It's not as accurate as your mortal friend here, perhaps. But good enough. Good enough."

"Where is it?" I said, ignoring the sinking feeling in my gut.

"With Luke," Daedalus said sadly. "I'm sorry, my dear. But you are several hours too late."

With a chill I realized why Luke had been in such a good mood in the arena. He'd already gotten the string from Daedalus. His only obstacle had been the arena master, and I'd taken care of that for him by killing Antaeus.

"Kronos promised me freedom," Quintus said. "Once Hades is overthrown, he will set me over the Underworld. I will reclaim my son Icarus. I will make things right with poor young Perdix. I will see Minos's soul cast into Tartarus, where it cannot bother me again. And I will no longer have to run from death."

"That's your brilliant idea?" I yelled, my face growing flushed with anger. "You're going to let Luke destroy our camp, kill hundreds of demigods, and attack Olympus? You're going to bring down the entire world so you can get what you want?"

"Your cause is doomed, my dear. I saw that as soon as I began to work at your camp. There is no way you can hold back the might of Kronos."

"You're a coward," I spat.

"I am doing what I must, my dear. The offer was too sweet to refuse. I'm sorry."

"You should've died," I said bitterly. "You should have died two thousand years ago with Icarus. But you were too scared to die then, and you're too scared to die now, so instead you're going to cause the deaths of millions of people."

Instead of getting mad, Daedalus hung his head. "You should go warn your camp. Now that Luke has the string—"

Suddenly Mrs. O'Leary pricked up her ears.

"Someone's coming!" Rachel warned.

But it was too little, too late. The doors of the workshop burst open, and Nico was pushed inside, his hands in chains. Then Kelli and two Laistrygonians marched in behind him, followed by the ghost of Minos. He looked almost solid now—a pale bearded king with cold eyes and tendrils of Mist coiling off his robes.

He fixed his gaze on Daedalus. "There you are, my old friend."

Daedalus's jaw clenched. He looked at Kelli. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Luke sends his compliments," Kelli said. "He thought you might like to see your old employer Minos."

"This was not part of our agreement," Daedalus said.

"No indeed," Kelli said. "But we already have what we want from you, and we have other agreements to honor. Minos required something else from us, in order to turn over this fine young demigod." She ran a finger under Nico's chin. "He'll be quite useful. And all Minos asked in return was your head, old man."

Daeadalus paled. "Treachery."

"Get used to it," Kelli said.

"Nico," I said. I took a step forward, but the Laistrygonians did too, and I settled on holding out a hand to show them I wasn't planning on attacking. Yet. "Are you okay?"

Nico nodded morosely. "I—I'm sorry, Theo. Minos told me you were in danger. He convinced me to go back into the maze."

"You were trying to help us?"

"I was tricked," he said. "He tricked all of us."

Percy glared at Kelli. "Where's Luke? Why isn't he here?"

The she-demon smiled like we were sharing a private joke. "Luke is... busy. He is preparing for the assault. But don't worry. We have more friends on the way. And in the meantime, I think I'll have a wonderful snack!" Her hands changed to claws. Her hair burst into flame and her legs turned to their true form—one donkey leg, one bronze. Gods, I hate empousas.

"Percy," Rachel whispered, "the wings. Do you think—"

"Get them," I said, though she hadn't been talking to me. "We'll try to buy you some time."

And with that, all Hades broke loose. Percy and I charged at Kelli. The giants came right at Daedalus, but Mrs. O'Leary leaped to his defense. Nico got pushed to the ground and struggled with his chains while the spirit of Minos wailed, "Kill the inventor! Kill him!"

Rachel grabbed the wings off the wall. Nobody paid her any attention. Kelli slashed at me. Percy tried to have my back, but the demon was quick and deadly. She turned over tables, smashed inventions, and wouldn't let us get close. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. O'Leary chomp her fangs into a giant's arm. He wailed in pain and flung her around, trying to shake her. Daedalus grabbed for his sword, but the second giant smashed the workbench with his fist, and the sword went flying. A clay jar of Greek fire broke on the floor and began to burn, green flames spreading quickly.

"To me!" Minos cried. "Spirits of the dead!" He raised his ghostly hands and the air began to hum.

"No!" Nico cried. He was on his feet now. He'd somehow managed to remove his shackles.

"You do not control me, young fool." Minos sneered. "All this time, I have been controlling you! A soul for a soul, yes. But it is not your sister who will return from the dead. It is I, as soon as I slay the inventor!"

Spirits began to appear around Minos—shimmering forms that slowly multiplied, solidifying into Cretan soldiers.

"I am the son of Hades," Nico insisted. "Be gone!"

Minos laughed. "You have no power over me. I am the lord of spirits! The ghost king!"

"No." Nico drew his sword. "I am."

He stabbed his black blade into the floor, and it cleaved through the stone like butter. Honestly, it was a little frightening.

"Never!" Minos's form rippled. "I will not—"

The ground rumbled. The windows cracked and shattered to pieces, letting in a blast of fresh air. A fissure opened in the stone floor of the workshop, and Minos and all his spirits were sucked into the void with a horrible wail.

The bad news: the fight was still going on all around us, and I had let myself get distracted. Kelli pounced on me so fast I had no time to defend myself. My bow skittered away and I hit my head hard on a worktable as I fell. My eyesight went fuzzy. I couldn't raise my arms.

All I could think to say was, "I thought you only liked eating boys."

Kelli laughed. "I go both ways."

She bared her fangs. Then suddenly her body went rigid. Her red eyes widened. She gasped. With an awful screech, Kelli dissolved into yellow vapor. Percy stood behind her, panting, his sword at his side—wet with blood.

He helped me up. I still felt dizzy, but we had no time to lose. Mrs. O'Leary and Daedalus were still locked in combat with the giants, and I could hear shouting in the tunnel. More monsters were coming toward the workshop.

"We have to help Daedalus!" I said.

"No time," Rachel said. "Too many coming!"

She'd already fitted herself with wings and was working on Nico, who looked pale and sweaty from his struggle with Minos. The wings grafted instantly to his back and arms.

"Now you!" she told us.

In seconds, Nico, Percy, Rachel, and I had fitted ourselves with coppery wings. Already I could feel myself being lifted by the wind coming through the window. Greek fire was burning the tables and furniture, spreading up the circular stairs.

"Daedalus!" Percy yelled. "Come on!"

He was cut in a hundred places—but he was bleeding golden oil instead of blood. He'd found his sword and was using part of a smashed table as a shield against the giants. "I won't leave Mrs. O'Leary!" he said. "Go!"

There was no time to argue. Even if we stayed, I wasn't sure we could help.

"None of us know how to fly!" Nico protested.

"Great time to find out," I decided. And together, the four of us jumped out the window into open sky.