Malora hummed 'Charlotte sometimes' to herself, hoping that it would calm her nerves, but deep down she knew it wouldn't.

It was just after dawn and the group met up at Zeus' fist. Malora was still eager to go, but the line about her in the prophecy kept echoing in her head.

She pushed these thoughts aside as her brothers came over to her. The last thing she wanted was to let any of her troubles show and worry her loved ones. Besides, she was doing all of this for Chris. It would be worth it.

Her brothers engulfed her in a group hug. She hugged them a little tighter than necessary for good measure.

Unfortunately or maybe fortunately — she wasn't quite sure — she barely had time to speak to them before she was whisked away to say goodbye to Katie and the Demeter cabin.

She had already said goodbye to Clarisse earlier that morning, where she was looking after Chris. This farewell had been even harder for her, because Clarisse knew exactly what Malora was expecting. This time, however, they would not be together to face it.

The daughter of Ares had even hugged her.

If that wasn't a sign of how bad the situation was, Malora didn't know what was.

That thought was questioned as soon as she noticed the younger Stoll brother approaching her.

"Hey?" she greeted him, though it came out more like a question. "What do you want?"

He opened his mouth to reply, but seemed to change his mind again. He was silent for a moment, but then ended up saying, "Just don't get yourself killed."

This angered her. Here he was again, implying that she was useless.

"I'm more than capable of handling myself, Brainless." Malora snapped, wincing when she heard how harsh her voice sounded, even to herself.

Connor was staring at her in a way that made her feel bad.

Maybe he was just worried about her. It would explain why he had wanted to stop her from going back. She didn't understand why he was worried about her, but there was no mistaking the tired, upset look on his face.

"Sorry." she apologized to him, shifting her weight to her other leg.

He sighed. "If I looked up the word 'complicated' in a dictionary, there would be a picture of you in the definition section."

"Then it's a good thing that you don't read." Malora shot back, a little miffed by his remark.

However she couldn't conceal her smile when Connor threw his head back with a laugh.

The tension was diffused, which put her at ease. For a fleeting moment she forgot what laid ahead of her.

"I'm not going to die any time soon." she promised Connor, a little surprised by that action. She valued honesty, but suddenly the desire to reassure him was stronger than that.

"You don't know that, Madwoman."

"I need you to trust me." Malora replied, looking up at Connor's face.

It was hard for her to read him, but she thought that the look on his face was one of yearning. He probably wanted to get out of this uncomfortable situation, which she couldn't blame him for.

It was time to stop delaying the inevitable.

She had just turned around and started walking over to Grover and Tyson, when she heard Connor speak up again.

"I do trust you." he mumbled, which caused a small smile to spread on her face.

She stopped in between the satyr and the cyclops, and put an arm around Grover's shoulders. It gave her some comfort and she only hoped it did the same for him. The trio waited for Annabeth and Percy in silence.

When they had walked over, the five of them stared at the crack between the boulders. It felt like it would swallow them whole.

"Well," Grover said nervously, "goodbye sunshine."

Tyson nodded in agreement. "Hello rocks."

While the others delved into the maze together, Malora took in the sight of the clear blue sky and memorized this image, so she would always carry it with her. There was no sunlight in the Labyrinth. There would be no more birds to hear. She didn't know if this would be the last time she ever saw the sky.

Malora smiled up at it for the final time and then descended into the Labyrinth after the other questers.

°｡ 𓏲 ｡ ✧⌇

The group had walked about a hundred feet until they were hopelessly lost, which was a much better outcome than Malora had originally expected.

The tunnel they were in looked nothing like the ones Clarisse and her had explored during the winter. In all honesty it didn't look like a Greek, incredibly built tunnel, it looked like a typical American sewer. It was constructed of red brick with iron-barred portholes every ten feet.

A good thing was that, despite hearing voices on the other side of the walls, the group hadn't encountered anything — or anyone — yet.

Annabeth tried her best to guide the group, so Malora didn't have the heart to tell her that her plan would not work. The maze was chaotic, against every logical explanation, so sticking to the left wall would not work here. One could not simply come up with a plan for something unpredictable.

"If we keep one hand on the left wall and follow it," Annabeth told them, "we should be able to find our way out again by reversing course."

As soon as the words had left her lips, the wall disappeared entirely. It would've been amusing to Malora how tricky and treacherous the Labyrinth was, if it didn't mean that the group was lost and the Camp still in danger.

Now they found themselves in the middle of a circular chamber with eight tunnels leading out, but none of them knew how they had gotten there in the first place.

"Um, which way did we come in?" Grover wondered, nervously fidgeting with his hands.

"Just turn around." instructed Annabeth the group.

In response each of them turned to a different tunnel.

Malora huffed in annoyance, but otherwise kept her thoughts to herself. While the others debated on which tunnel would lead them back to Camp (Why they wanted to go back? Malora didn't even know.), she wondered if the others would actually leave and if her time alone in the maze would come now.

"Left walls are mean," Tyson concluded, looking around, "Which way now?"

Annabeth swept her flashlight beam over the archways of the eight tunnels. They were identical.

The daughter of Athena decided on one, pointing to it. "That way."

"How do you know?" Percy asked.

"Deductive reasoning."

"So..." he trailed off, "you're guessing."

"Oh, what does it matter?" intervened Malora, not unkindly, "We don't know where we'll end up anyway. I trust Annabeth's gut feeling."

The daughter of Athena sent her a grateful smile, which was a little hard to make out in the darkness. Then they moved through the tunnel in question.

It narrowed quickly. The walls turned to gray cement, and the ceiling got so low that they were forced to hunch over. Poor Tyson had to crawl. Besides Grover's hyperventilating, there was barely any noise. Another thing that was different from Malora's time in the Labyrinth.

She felt unprepared, but she had known that she probably would be. So for the moment, she felt pretty good — or as good as she could under the circumstances.

"I can't stand it anymore," Grover whispered, "Are we there yet?"

Malora couldn't stop the laugh that escaped her lips. What a ridiculous question. If they had reached their destination, they would know. She felt bad for Grover, especially since she knew how much he hated it underground, but his panic wasn't helping.

"We've been down here for maybe five minutes." Annabeth told him.

"It's been longer than that," Grover insisted. Malora agreed with him. Time was different in the Labyrinth.

"And why would Pan be down here? This is the opposite of the wild!" the anxious satyr added.

"He might not be here on his own accord." the daughter of Dionysus murmured, a sad feeling in her heart. She was worried about Pan. It got worse with every minute spent in this infinite darkness.

The silence that followed her statement was oppressive.

Malora and the others shuffled forward, while the tunnel kept getting narrower and narrower. She wasn't claustrophobic, but it felt like the tunnel was about to squish them. Her breathing grew more ragged, but relaxed when the tunnel opened into a huge room.

Malora was in awe.

"It was gorgeous once." she exclaimed, shining her light around the room.

It was covered in mosaic tiles, the pictures grimy and faded. Malora could still make out the colors though. Red, green, blue and gold. The frieze showed the Olympian Gods at a feast.

She immediately looked for her dad, finding him next to Percy's dad, Poseidon. Poseidon was holding out grapes for her father to turn into wine. Zeus was partying with satyrs. There was Connor and Travis' dad, Hermes, flying through the air on his winged sandals. The pictures were beautiful, but definitely old.

The portrayal of her father wasn't accurate. He might've looked that way once upon a time, but during this century he looked older. Not necessarily less handsome though.

Hermes reminded her of Connor, but his nose was smaller than in the picture.

Malora had actually never met any of the Gods, except for her father. Only the year rounders got to meet the Gods after all.

"What is this place?" Percy muttered, drawing Malora's attention to him. "It looks-"

"Roman," Annabeth finished his sentence, "Those mosaics are about two thousand years old."

"But how can they be Roman?"

"The Labyrinth is a patchwork," Annabeth responded to Percy, "I told you, it's always expanding, adding pieces. It's the only work of architecture that grows by itself."

It was such a fascinating place.

"You make it sound like it's alive." Percy said doubtfully.

Instantly, a groaning noise echoed from the tunnel in front of them.

"It is," Malora spoke, "Or as good as."

Grover whimpered, "Let's not talk about it being alive, please?"

"All right, forward."

"Down the hall with the bad sounds?" Tyson said, a look of nervousness on his face.

"Yeah," Annabeth replied, "The architecture is getting older. That's a good sign. Daedalus' workshop would be in the oldest part."

As they kept walking, the maze toyed with them. Malora was both thrilled and annoyed by the Labyrinth's cunning tricks.

After fifty feet the tunnel turned back to cement with brass pipes running down the sides. The walls were spray-painted with graffiti. There was a neon tagger sign on a wall, but Malora couldn't read it.

Suddenly, Percy spoke up, "I'm thinking this is not Roman."

Malora did a double take at his words.

"That's a, uhm, a good observation, Percy." she told him, encouraging him to keep thinking some more.

Annabeth only took a deep breath, not dignifying him with a response.

Every few feet the tunnels twisted and turned, as well as branching off. The floor beneath the group changed from cement to mud to bricks and back again.

There was no sense to any of it, like Malora had suspected. Annabeth was still holding up well, despite this realization.

At some point, they walked underneath a bar, which was reassuring. A sign that there was more than just the maze, but they didn't dawdle around. They kept walking until they found their first skeleton.

He was dressed in white clothes, like some kind of uniform. A wooden crate of glass bottles sat next to him.

"A milkman." Annabeth noted.

"What?"

"They used to deliver milk."

"Yeah, I know what they are, but... that was when my mom was little, like a million years ago. What's he doing here?" Percy said, causing Malora to snort. His mother was definitely not that old.

"Some people wander in by mistake," Annabeth explained to him, "Some come exploring on purpose and never make it back. A long time ago, the Cretans sent people in here as human sacrifices."

Grover gulped.

"He's been down here a long time." he pointed to the skeleton's bottles, which were coated with dust. The skeleton's fingers were clawing at the brick wall, like he had died trying to escape.

"Only bones," Tyson said. "Don't worry, goat boy. The milkman is dead."

This did little to reassure Malora, who eyed the skeleton with pity and unease.

"The milkman doesn't bother me," Grover responded, "It's the smell. Monsters. Can't you smell it?"

Tyson nodded.

"Lots of monsters. But underground smells like that. Monsters and dead milk people."

The statement was so absurd that Malora somehow felt better. Things never did work the way they were supposed to in the maze, so her feelings weren't an exception.

"Oh, good," Grover whimpered, "I thought maybe I was wrong."

"We have to go deeper into the maze." Malora told Annabeth, who nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, there has to be a way to the center."

She led the group through a few corridors, and then they arrived back in the Roman room with the picture of the Gods.

This time they weren't alone though.

There was a man with two faces. They jutted out from either side of his head, staring over his shoulders. His head was much wider than it should've been. He was dressed in a long black overcoat, shiny shoes and black top-hat that somehow managed to stay on his entire head.

The man unsettled Malora, but he didn't care about her or the others' presence, only Annabeth seemed to matter. That was a short relief.

"Well, Annabeth?" said his left face, "Hurry up!"

"Don't mind him," apologized the right face, "He's terribly rude. Right this way, miss."

The blonde's jaw dropped. "Uh, I don't..."

Tyson frowned.

"That funny man has two faces." he realized, offending the man.

"The funny man has ears, you know!" the left face scolded the cyclops. "Now come along, miss."

"No, no," the right face said. "This way, miss. Talk to me, please."

The two-faced man regarded Annabeth as best he could out of the corners of his eyes. It was impossible to look at him straight on without focusing on one side or the other.

Then Malora realized who he was. Her suspicion was only confirmed when she noticed two exits behind him, blocked by wooden doors with huge iron locks. They hadn't been there during their first time through the room.

The two-faced doorman held a silver key, which he kept passing from his left hand to his right hand.

Behind the quest group, the doorway they had come through had disappeared, replaced by more mosaics. There was no other escape.

"The exits are closed," Annabeth realized.

"Duh!" the man's left face snapped.

"Where do they lead?" she asked.

"One probably leads the way you wish to go," the right face said encouragingly, "The other leads to certain death."

"I-I know who you are."

"Oh, you're a smart one!" The left face sneered. "But do you know which way to choose? I don't have all day."

"Why are you trying to confuse me?" Annabeth asked and Malora just thought that she was glad not to be in her friend's situation.

The right face smiled. "You're in charge now, my dear. All the decisions are on your shoulders. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I-"

"We know you, Annabeth," the left face interrupted her, "We know what you wrestle with every day. We know your indecision. You will have to make your choice sooner or later. And the choice may kill you."

Annabeth paled, stammering and trying to refuse, when Percy stepped up.

"Leave her alone," he snapped, "Who are you, anyway?"

"Janus." Malora whispered to him, which caused the God's head to snap toward her.

"Yes, I'm your best friend." the right face said.

"I'm your worst enemy."

Together they said, "I'm Janus. God of Doorways. Beginnings. Endings. Choices."

"I'll see you soon enough, Perseus Jackson." the right face told him.

Then, "and you, Malora Cinna Greco," the left face said, causing her to flinch at her full name. "you have many eyes on you."

Before she could even understand what had been said, the faces turned back to Annabeth.

"But for now it's Annabeth's turn." the right face laughed giddily. "Such fun!"

"Shut up! This is serious. One bad choice can ruin your whole life. It can kill you and all of your friends. But no pressure, Annabeth. Choose!"

Malora frowned when she remembered the words of the prophecy: the child of Athena's final stand.

Percy seemed to remember the same thing, telling their friend not to do it.

"I'm afraid she has to," the right face cheered.

Before she could point to a door, a brilliant light flooded the room.

Malora had never been in the presence of an Olympian, who wasn't her father, but she could immediately tell that a God had entered the room.

When the light died, a woman was standing at a fountain.

She was beautiful. Tall and graceful with long hair the color of chocolate, braided in plaits with gold ribbons. She wore a simple white dress, but when she moved, the fabric shimmered with colors like oil on water.

Malora couldn't quite tell who she was, but she already ruled out Aphrodite and Artemis.

"Janus," the Goddess said, "are we causing trouble again?"

"N-no, milady!" Janus's right face stammered.

"Yes!" the left face contradicted the other face.

"Shut up!" the right face snapped.

"Excuse me?"

"Not you, milady! I was talking to myself."

"I see," the lady said. "You know very well your visit is premature. The girl's time has not yet come. So I give you a choice: leave these heroes to me, or I shall turn you into a door and break you down."

"What kind of door?" the left face asked.

"Shut up!" the right face said.

"Because French doors are nice." the left face mused. "Lots of natural light."

Malora couldn't help but smile at the God's conflict with himself. He was trying to confuse others, but he himself was suffering from it the most.

"Shut up!" the right face wailed. "Not you, milady! Of course I'll leave. I was just having a bit of fun. Doing my job. Offering choices."

"Causing indecision," she corrected, "Now be gone!"

The left face muttered something, then raised his silver key, inserted it into the air and disappeared.

After that, the woman turned toward the group, her eyes shining with power. Malora was glad that she had gotten rid of Janus, but she was still apprehensive. What would a Goddess want in the Labyrinth? What did she want from them?

"You must be hungry," she said with a smile, "Sit with me and speak."

She waved her hand, and the old Roman fountain began to flow. Jets of clear water sprayed into the air. A marble table appeared, laden with platters of sandwiches and pitchers of lemonade. There was even a bowl of grapes, which Malora immediately reached for.

"Who... who are you?" Percy asked and Malora was glad that he was bold enough to do it. She wouldn't have, despite how curious she was.

"I am Hera. Queen of Heaven."

Now Malora was on edge. The Queen of Heaven here with them, that was a very worrisome sign. Besides the bowl of grapes was obviously meant for her, but why? Hera didn't like her father at all. There was more to it.

Despite being tense, Malora dug in. She needed to take the chance and eat as much as she could.

"Grover, dear," Hera said, "use your napkin. Don't eat it."

"Yes, ma'am,"

"Tyson, you're wasting away. Would you like another peanut butter sandwich?"

Tyson stifled a belch. "Yes, nice lady."

"Queen Hera," Annabeth spoke up, "I can't believe it. What are you doing in the Labyrinth?"

Hera smiled, before flicking a finger. Annabeth's hair combed itself, while the dirt and grime disappeared from her face.

Malora hoped it would be her turn next.

"I came to see you, naturally," the Goddess replied.

Malora didn't know what to make of it. Grover and Percy also exchanged glances, so she wasn't alone in her wariness. But that didn't stop any of them from eating. Tyson devoured one peanut butter sandwich after another, and Grover savored the lemonade and crunched the Styrofoam cup like an ice cream cone.

"I didn't think," Annabeth faltered, "Well, I didn't think you liked heroes."

Malora felt uneasy. Unlike the others, she had never dealt with Gods before, but the others were all so outspoken, and Malora was really afraid that they would be decimated for saying something offensive.

Hera smiled indulgently. "Because of that little spat I had with Hercules? Honestly, I got so much bad press because of one disagreement."

"Didn't you try to kill him, like, a lot of times?" Annabeth asked, making Malora flinch.

Fortunately, the question didn't seem to offend Hera, who only waved her hand dismissively.

"Water under the bridge, my dear. Besides, he was one of my loving husband's children by another woman. My patience wore thin, I'll admit it. But Zeus and I have had some excellent marriage counseling sessions since then. We've aired our feelings and come to an understanding, especially after that last little incident."

"You mean when he sired Thalia?" Percy said, which eventually proved to be pushing their luck. Malora watched nervously as Hera's gaze turned icy on him.

"Percy Jackson, isn't it? One of Poseidon's... children." Hera spoke, but it was clear children hadn't been the word she was thinking of. "As I recall, I voted to let you live at the winter solstice. I hope I voted correctly."

Then she turned back to Annabeth with a sunny smile, which taught Malora the first lesson. Gods were moody, temperamental and never to be offended.

"At any rate, I certainly bear you no ill will, my girl. I appreciate the difficulty of your quest, especially when you have trouble makers like Janus to deal with."

Annabeth lowered her gaze. "Why was he here? He was driving me crazy."

"Trying to," Hera nodded. "You must understand, the minor gods like Janus have always been frustrated by the small parts they play in the universe. Some, I fear, have little love for Olympus, and could easily be swayed to support the rise of my father."

"Your father?" Percy questioned and Malora wondered how he had survived this long, but then he realized it himself. "Oh, right."

Hera continued on, "We must watch the minor Gods. Janus, Hecate, Morpheus. They give lip service to Olympus and yet-"

"That's where Dionysus went." Percy exclaimed, causing Malora to shake her head. "He was checking on the minor Gods."

"Stop interrupting the Queen of Heaven, Percy!" Malora finally snapped, which caused Hera's attention to snap to her.

The Goddess smiled.

"It is fine, Malora. He is correct, of course," she looked at the faded mosaics. "You see, in times of trouble, even Gods can lose faith. They start putting their trust in the wrong things. They stop looking at the big picture and start being selfish. But I'm the goddess of marriage, you see. I'm used to perseverance. You have to rise above the squabbling and chaos, and keep believing. You have to always keep your goals in mind."

"What are your goals then, my lady?" Malora wondered, biting into a grape.

"To keep my family, the Olympians, together, of course. At the moment, the best way I can do that is by helping you. Zeus does not allow me to interfere much, I am afraid. But once every century or so, for a quest I care deeply about, he allows me to grant a wish."

"A wish?" Annabeth repeated.

"Before you ask it, let me give you some advice, which I can do for free. I know you see Daedalus. His Labyrinth is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. But if you want to know his fate, I would visit my son Hephaestus at his forge. Daedalus was a great inventor, a mortal after Hephaestus's heart. There has never been a mortal Hephaestus admired more. If anyone would have kept up with Daedalus and could tell you his fate, it is Hephaestus."

"But how do we get there?" Annabeth asked, "That's my wish. I want a way to navigate the Labyrinth."

Hera looked disappointed.

"So be it. You wish for something, however, that you have already been given."

"I don't understand."

"The means is already within your grasp," the Goddess said, looking at Percy, "Percy knows the answer."

"He does?" Malora asked doubtfully, while Percy also exclaimed, "I do?"

They shared a look.

"But that's not fair," Annabeth protested, "You're not telling me what it is!"

The Queen of Heaven shook her head. "Getting something and having the wits to use it... those are two different things. I'm sure your mother Athena would agree."

"My Lady," Malora exclaimed, copying the boldness of the others. "Janus, uhm, he said that there were eyes on me. Do you know what that means?"

Hera regarded her with a thoughtful expression, a faint smile on her face.

"We will see each other again soon, Malora."

As if on cue the room rumbled like distant thunder. Hera stood up.

"Zeus grows impatient. Think on what I have said, Annabeth. Seek out Hephaestus. You will have to pass through the ranch, I imagine. But keep going: And use all the means at your disposal, however common they may seem." She said and then pointed toward the two doors. They melted away, revealing twin corridors, open and dark. "One last thing, Annabeth. I have postponed your day of choice, I have not prevented it. Soon, as Janus said, you will have to make a decision. Farewell!"

She waved a hand, turning into white smoke. The food disappeared as well, just as Tyson chomped down on a sandwich that turned to mist in his mouth. Malora quickly checked her bag, surprised to find the grapes she had put into it still present. Hera wanted her favor, but the question was why? She couldn't think about that now though, there were more important matters at hand.

As the fountain trickled to a stop, the mosaic walls dimmed and faded again. The room was now as unfriendly as it had been at the beginning.

Annabeth stamped her foot. "What sort of help was that? 'Here, have a sandwich. Make a wish. Oops, I can't help you!' Poof!"

Malora shook her head. She should be grateful that they had gotten food and that Hera had cleaned them up again. It was better than nothing.

Tyson, however, seemed to agree with Annabeth.

"Poof," he said, looking at his empty plate.

"Well," Grover sighed. "She said Percy knows the answer. That's something."

Everyone turned to look at the son of Poseidon.

"But I don't," he told them, "I don't know what she was talking about."

Annabeth sighed. "All right. Then we'll just keep going."

"Which way?"

Suddenly, Grover and Tyson both tensed. They stood up together like they had prepared it.

"Left."

"How come?" Malora asked, but she already moved toward the left.

"Because something is coming from the right." Grover replied.

Tyson added, "Something big. In a hurry."

"Left is sounding pretty good." Percy decided and together the questers plunged into the dark corridor.

Malora's head was racing with questions, Hera's, Janus', her father's and the prophecy's words echoing in her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a pair of eyes watching her from one of the walls. Stifling a yelp, she turned around and hurried after Grover, who she felt the safest around.