CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

₊˚࿐࿔ 𖥧‧₊⚘ ❀༉. 𓏲｡

Chiron had insisted they talk about it in the morning, which was kind of like, Hey, your life's in mortal danger. Sleep tight! It was hard to fall asleep, but when Sylvie finally did, she dreamed of another memory designated to pierce her heart with a knife and twist.

Sylvie didn't want to talk about it, but she'll tell you it was a vision from her first week at camp. When Eurydice took Sylvie under her wing, tried showing Sylvie the ropes of everything, and comforted the girl when she didn't get the hang of it all so quickly. The dream ended with Sylvie crying in Eurydice's arms, and Sylvie woke in a cold sweat.

Sylvie was still feeling shaky the next morning when Chiron called a war council. Katie and Florian forced her to attend it, so Sylvie joined their meeting in the sword arena—which she thought was pretty strange—trying to discuss the fate of the camp. Meanwhile Mrs. O'Leary chewed on a life-size squeaky pink rubber yak.

Chiron and Quintus stood at the front by the weapon racks. Clarisse and Annabeth sat next to each other and led the briefing. Tyson and Grover sat as far away from each other as possible. Sylvie found an empty spot next to Percy. Also present around the table: Juniper the tree nymph, Lee Fletcher, Charles Beckendorf, Silena Beauregard, Travis and Connor Stoll, and Castor and Pollux Angevin, even Argus, their hundred-eyed security chief. That's how Sylvie knew it was serious. Argus hardly ever shows up unless something really major is going on. The whole time Annabeth spoke, he kept his hundred blue eyes trained on her so hard his whole body turned bloodshot.

"Luke must have known about the Labyrinth entrance," Annabeth said. "Though I don't really know how."

Sylvie anxiously spoke up. Though, her voice wasn't all that stable when she confessed, "It had to be Eurydice. She knew everything about camp. She was here for eleven years."

Then she ducked her head back down so she didn't have to meet the kind of stares everyone was giving her.

"Actually," Juniper cleared her throat, saving Sylvie, "that's what I was trying to tell you last night. The cave entrance has been there a long time. Eurydice and Luke used to use it."

Silena frowned. "You knew about the Labyrinth entrance, and you didn't say anything?"

Juniper's face turned green. "I didn't know it was important. Just a cave. I don't like yucky old caves."

"She has good taste," Grover said.

"I wouldn't have paid any attention except... well, it was Luke." She blushed a little greener.

Grover huffed. "Forget what I said about good taste."

"Interesting." Quintus polished his sword as he spoke. "And you believe this young man, Luke, would dare use the Labyrinth as an invasion route?"

"Definitely," Clarisse said. "If he could get an army of monsters inside Camp Half-Blood, just pop up in the middle of the woods without having to worry about our magical boundaries, we wouldn't stand a chance. He could wipe us out easy. He must've been planning this for months."

"He's been sending scouts into the maze," Annabeth said. "We know because... because we found one."

"Chris Rodriguez," Chiron said. He gave Quintus a meaningful look.

"Ah," Quintus said. "The one in the... Yes. I understand."

"The one in the what?" Percy asked.

Clarisse glared at him. "The point is, Luke has been looking for a way to navigate the maze. He's searching for Daedalus's workshop."

"The guy who created the maze," Percy realized.

"Yes," Annabeth said. "The greatest architect, the greatest inventor of all time. If the legends are true, his workshop is in the center of the Labyrinth. He's the only one who knew how to navigate the maze perfectly. If Luke managed to find the workshop and convince Daedalus to help him, Luke wouldn't have to fumble around searching for paths, or risk losing his army in the maze's traps. He could navigate anywhere he wanted—quickly and safely. First to Camp Half-Blood to wipe us out. Then... to Olympus."

The arena was silent except for Mrs. O'Leary's toy yak getting disemboweled: SQUEAK! SQUEAK!

Finally Beckendorf put his huge hands on the table. "Back up a sec. Annabeth, you said 'convince Daedalus'? Isn't Daedalus dead?"

Quintus grunted. "I would hope so. He lived, what, three thousand years ago? And even if he were alive, don't the old stories say he fled from the Labyrinth?"

Chiron clopped restlessly on his hooves. "That's the problem, my dear Quintus. No one knows. There are rumors... well, there are many disturbing rumors about Daedalus, but one is that he disappeared back into the Labyrinth toward the end of his life. He might still be down there."

"We need to go in," Annabeth announced. "We have to find the workshop before Luke does. If Daedalus is alive, we convince him to help us, not Luke. If Ariadne's string still exists, we make sure it never falls into Luke's hands."

"Wait a second," Sylvie said. "If we're worried about an attack, why not just blow up the entrance? Seal the tunnel?"

"Great idea!" Grover said. "I'll get the dynamite!"

"It's not so easy, nature freaks," Clarisse growled. "We tried that at the entrance we found in Arizona. It didn't go well."

Annabeth nodded. "The Labyrinth is magical architecture. It would take huge power to seal even one of its entrances. In Arizona, Clarisse demolished a whole building with a wrecking ball, and the maze entrance just shifted a few feet. The best we can do is prevent Luke from learning to navigate the Labyrinth."

"We could fight," Lee Fletcher said. "We know where the entrance is now. We can set up a defensive line and wait for them. If an army tries to come through, they'll find us waiting with our bows."

"We will certainly set up defenses," Chiron agreed. "But I fear Clarisse is right. The magical borders have kept this camp safe for hundreds of years. If Luke manages to get a large army of monsters into the center of camp, bypassing our boundaries... we may not have the strength to defeat them."

Nobody looked real happy about that news. Chiron usually tried to be upbeat and optimistic. If he was predicting they couldn't hold off an attack, that wasn't good.

"We have to get to Daedalus's workshop first," Annabeth insisted. "Find Ariadne's string and prevent Luke from using it."

"But if nobody can navigate in there," Percy said, "what chance do we have?"

"I've been studying architecture for years," she said. "I know Daedalus's Labyrinth better than anybody."

"From reading about it."

"Well, yes."

"That's not enough."

"It has to be!"

"It isn't!"

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Everyone was watching Percy and Annabeth like a tennis match, except for two—Sylvie, who mouthed 'Awkward' to Connor, and Connor, who cackled amusedly. Mrs. O'Leary's squeaky yak went EEK! as she ripped off its pink rubber head.

Chiron cleared his throat. "First things first. We need a quest. Someone must enter the Labyrinth, find the workshop of Daedalus, and prevent Luke from using the maze to invade this camp."

"We all know who should lead this," Clarisse said. "Annabeth."

There was a murmur of agreement. Sylvie knew Annabeth had been waiting for her own quest since she was a little kid, but she looked uncomfortable.

"You've done as much as I have, Clarisse," she said. "You should go, too."

Clarisse shook her head. "I'm not going back in there."

Travis Stoll laughed. "Don't tell me you're scared. Clarisse, chicken?"

Clarisse got to her feet. Sylvie thought she was going to pulverize Travis, but she said in a shaky voice: "You don't understand anything, punk. I'm never going in there again. Never!"

She stormed out of the arena.

Travis looked around sheepishly. "I didn't mean to—"

Chiron raised his hand. "The poor girl has had a difficult year. Now, do we have agreement that Annabeth should lead the quest?"

They all nodded except Quintus. He folded his arms and stared at the table, but Sylvie wasn't sure anyone else noticed.

"Very well." Chiron turned to Annabeth. "My dear, it's your time to visit the Oracle. Assuming you return to us in one piece, we shall discuss what to do next."

Waiting for Annabeth wasn't an easy task. Sylvie paced the arena, waiting. Mrs. O'Leary ate her lunch, which consisted of a hundred pounds of ground beef and several dog biscuits the size of trash-can lids. Sylvie wondered where Quintus got dog biscuits that size. She didn't figure you could just walk into Pet Zone and put those in your shopping cart.

Chiron was deep in conversation with Quintus and Argus. It looked to Sylvie like they were disagreeing about something. Quintus kept shaking his head.

On the other side of the arena, Tyson and the Stoll brothers were racing miniature bronze chariots that Tyson had made out of armor scraps.

"Hey," someone muttered, and Sylvie jumped around to see Percy. "Let's get out of here."

Sylvie looked anxiously around the arena, nervous that anyone would watch them sneak out. But no one seemed to care. She looked back at Percy again.

"Fine," Sylvie gave up on pacing. "Lead the way, Fishstick."

So they left the arena. Sylvie stared across the fields at the Big House's attic window, dark and still. What was taking Annabeth so long?

"Sylvie," a girl whispered. "Percy."

Juniper was standing in the bushes. It was weird how she almost turned invisible when she was surrounded by plants.

She gestured them over urgently. "You need to know: Luke and Eurydice weren't the only ones I saw around that cave."

"What do you mean?"

Juniper glanced back at the arena. "I was trying to say something, but he was right there."

"Who?"

"The sword master," she said. "He was poking around the rocks."

Sylvie's stomach clenched. "Quintus? When?"

"I don't know. I don't pay attention to time. Maybe a week ago, when he first showed up."

"What was he doing?" Percy asked. "Did he go in?"

"I—I'm not sure. He's creepy, you two. I didn't even see him come into the glade. Suddenly he was just there. You have to tell Grover it's too dangerous—"

"Juniper?" Grover called from inside the arena. "Where'd you go?"

Juniper sighed. "I'd better go in. Just remember what I said. Don't trust that man!"

She ran into the arena.

Sylvie stared at the Big House, feeling more uneasy than ever. If Quintus was up to something... They needed Annabeth's advice. She might know what to make of Juniper's news. But where the heck was she? Whatever was happening with the Oracle, it shouldn't be taking this long.

"Come on," Sylvie nudged Percy when she couldn't take it anymore. It was against the rules, but then again, nobody was watching. They ran down the hill and across the fields.

The front parlor of the Big House was strangely quiet. Sylvie was used to seeing Dionysus by the fireplace, playing cards and eating grapes and griping at satyrs, but Mr. D was still away.

They walked down the hallway, floorboards creaking under their feet. When they got to the base of the stairs, Sylvie hesitated. Four floors above would be a little trapdoor leading to the attic. The Oracle would be up there somewhere. Sylvie and Percy stood quietly and listened. But what they heard wasn't what Sylvie had expected.

Sobbing. And it was coming from below them.

They crept around the back of the stairs. The basement door was open. Sylvie didn't even know the Big House had a basement. She peered inside with Percy and saw two figures in the far corner, sitting amid a bunch of stockpiled cases of ambrosia and strawberry preserves. One was Clarisse. The other was a teenage Hispanic guy in tattered camouflage pants and a dirty black T-shirt. His hair was greasy and matted. He was hugging his shoulders and sobbing. It was Chris Rodriguez, the half-blood who'd gone to work for Luke.

"It's okay," Clarisse was telling him. "Try a little more nectar."

"You're an illusion, Mary!" Chris backed farther into the corner. "G-Get away."

"My name's not Mary." Clarisse's voice was gentle but really sad. "My name is Clarisse. Remember. Please."

"It's dark!" Chris yelled. "So dark!"

"Come outside," Clarisse coaxed. "The sunlight will help you."

Sylvie's throat was suddenly tight with familiarity. Percy had never seen her go so still.

"A... A thousand skulls. The earth keeps healing him."

"Chris," Clarisse pleaded. It sounded like she was close to tears. "You have to get better. Please. Mr. D will be back soon. He's an expert in madness. Just hang on."

Chris's eyes were like a cornered rat's—wild and desperate. "There's no way out, Mary. No way out."

Sylvie couldn't breathe. She thought they were in the Big House's basement, so why did it feel like she was back on the farm? Why was she in the living room with her father? Why did Sylvie sound like Clarisse, and why did Chris sound like Conan?

"Sylv," a voice whispered urgently, pulling her back in the hall so they went unnoticed.

"Dad," she croaked.

The speaker turned a million times more sad as a realization hit him. "No," his voice cracked. "No, it's Perce. I'm Percy."

Dad, please, it's Sil. I'm not—I'm not Mom—

Percy grabbed Sylvie's wrist to ground her to reality, and his thumb touched her pulse point, feeling the rapid beats of her heart. "Hey, Sylvie, come back," he said softly. "It's just me and you."

"You and me," Sylvie echoed out of reflex. That's when she realized her eyes had been screwed tightly shut, because they were suddenly opening so she was able to see. "Percy."

His thumb grazed the inside of her wrist once.

"There she is," Percy sent her a comforting smile, but his eyes were still so sad. "Yeah, it's me."

Sylvie shook her head, face screwing up in embarrassment. Hoarsely, she said, "I'm so sorry—"

"It's alright—"

"It's—It's not," Sylvie exhaled. Her skin was hot, and she couldn't tell if it was Percy's contact or the mortifying shame. "I'm not supposed to... to be like that—"

"Sylv, hey," Percy squeezed her wrist. "It's alright. It's not your fa—"

They suddenly heard a creak from above, like an attic door opening. It snapped Sylvie back into the severity of what was going on—she and Percy weren't supposed to be in that house. They couldn't get caught.

Percy didn't let go of Sylvie's wrist. He tugged, and they bolted for the front door. Sylvie was dragged along throughout camp quickly. They didn't stop until they were back in the arena.

"My dear," Chiron said. "You made it."

Annabeth walked into the arena. She sat on a stone bench and stared at the floor. Sylvie's heart was still pounding. Percy wasn't holding her arm anymore, but her wrist burned like he was. She couldn't believe that had happened when Percy was there. Sylvie couldn't shake the lingering self-hatred. She couldn't have picked any other time to freak out? It was horrifying.

"Well?" Quintus asked, reminding Sylvie to pay attention.

Annabeth focused on Quintus. "I got the prophecy. I will lead the quest to find Daedalus's workshop."

Nobody cheered. Well—they all liked Annabeth, and they wanted her to have a quest, but this one seemed insanely dangerous. After what Sylvie had seen of Chris Rodriguez, she didn't even want to think about anyone descending into that weird maze again.

Chiron scraped a hoof on the dirt floor. "What did the prophecy say exactly, my dear? The wording is important."

Annabeth took a deep breath. "I, ah... well, it said, You shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze..."

They waited.

"The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise."

Grover perked up. "The lost one! That must mean Pan! That's great!"

"With the dead and the traitor," Sylvie added. "Not so great."

"And?" Chiron asked. "What is the rest?"

"You shall rise or fall by the ghost king's hand," Annabeth said. "The child of Athena's final stand."

Everyone looked around uncomfortably. Annabeth was a daughter of Athena, and a final stand didn't sound good.

"Hey... we shouldn't jump to conclusions," Silena said. "Annabeth isn't the only child of Athena, right?"

"But who's this ghost king?" Castor asked.

No one answered. Sylvie thought about the Iris-message Percy had seen of Nico summoning spirits. She had a bad feeling the prophecy was connected to that.

"Are there more lines?" Chiron asked. "The prophecy does not sound complete."

Annabeth hesitated. "I don't remember exactly."

Chiron raised an eyebrow. Annabeth was known for her memory. She never forgot something she heard.

Annabeth shifted on her bench. "Something about... Destroy with a hero's final breath."

"And?" Chiron asked.

She stood. "Look, the point is, I have to go in. I'll find the workshop and stop Luke. And... I need help." She turned to Percy. "Will you come?"

"I'm in," Percy said automatically.

Annabeth nodded, then looked to Sylvie right next to him. "And you, Sylvie? Obviously."

Sylvie jolted a little. She looked around at all the staring eyes nervously—Everyone knew how much Sylvie hated going on quests, yet they were always trying to get her to go. The last pair of eyes she landed on was Percy, who sent her an encouraging grin, and that made it all worthwhile.

"Obviously," Sylvie repeated, a confirmation that Annabeth understood.

She smiled for the first time in days. "Grover, you too? The wild god is waiting."

Grover seemed to forget how much he hated the underground. The line about the "lost one" had completely energized him. "I'll pack extra recyclables for snacks!"

"And Tyson," Annabeth said. "I'll need you, too."

"Yay! Blow-things-up time!" Tyson clapped so hard he woke up Mrs. O'Leary, who was dozing in the corner.

"Wait, Annabeth," Chiron said. "This goes against the ancient laws. A hero is allowed only two companions."

"I need them all," she insisted. "Chiron, it's important."

Sylvie didn't know why Annabeth was so certain, but she always trusted Annabeth's judgment. Even if that judgment might inaccurately include Sylvie in it.

"Annabeth." Chiron flicked his tail nervously. "Consider well. You would be breaking the ancient laws, and there are always consequences. Three is a sacred number. There are three Fates, three Furies, three Olympian sons of Kronos, three Olympian daughters of Kronos. It is a good strong number that stands against many dangers. Five... this is risky."

Annabeth took a deep breath. "I know. But we have to. Please."

Sylvie could tell Chiron didn't like it. Quintus was studying them, like he was trying to decide which of them would come back alive.

Chiron sighed. "Very well. Let us adjourn. The members of the quest must prepare themselves. Tomorrow at dawn, we send you into the Labyrinth."

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯

Everyone left the training arena after their meeting adjourned, but Sylvie stayed behind.

Something she'll never admit out loud was that Sylvie actually learned quite a bit from training with Phoenix. Well, it was seen plainly in her weapon fighting, but Sylvie still wasn't going to give Phoenix that satisfaction. Her dagger wielding had once been so poor, so he corrected it.

There was something else from Phoenix she accidentally adopted—his use of fighting to try and clear his head or calm himself down. With everything that had been happening to Sylvie recently, she found that she needed to both clear her head and calm down quite frequently. Sylvie had only been at camp for around two weeks, and she'd somehow been in the arena more times than any other summer combined.

When Phoenix was feeling nice, he'd let Sylvie use him as a sparring partner. Today, however, he wasn't—probably off doing gods know what with Mickey—so Sylvie just hacked at a poor training dummy. Quintus had mysteriously disappeared, per usual, so now it was just Sylvie and Mrs. O'Leary sleeping soundly.

Sylvie grunted with every harsh blow sent the dummy's way. If she focused hard enough, she could actually pretend Phoenix was with her, then get back at him for the numerous amounts of slamming her into the ground and disarming her.

"Shit," Sylvie cursed when she accidentally hit the stand so hard it flew back and rolled on the ground. Luckily, Mrs. O'Leary still didn't wake up. Sylvie wouldn't have to feel bad for disrupting her nap.

"Wow, what he'd ever do to you?"

Sylvie turned around, eyes narrowing on Percy, unamused.

"You're funny."

"I know," he beamed proudly, walking into the arena like he was strolling through the park.

Percy wasn't as slick as he thought he was. Sylvie knew why he'd stumbled back over to the arena. His eyes kept flickering over to Sylvie in a way that was far too analyzing for her liking. She knew they were both thinking of the same thing—what happened to Sylvie in the Big House.

"What do you want, Perce?" Sylvie asked, just wanting to get it over with.

"Can't a guy just want to practice in the training area?"

"If that guy didn't have an ulterior motive."

The message was received: Sylvie absolutely didn't want to talk about it. Percy was smart enough to gather that. If it wasn't evident in her words, it definitely was in the force she'd used to knock over the training dummy and the two sharp daggers held in her hands.

"Hey, I don't know what you're talking about, Silviana," he shrugged nonchalantly. "I just want to spar with you."

"I will use these," Sylvie held up Halcyon and Cereal, but the threat was too empty for Percy to take her seriously.

"That's the goal, isn't it?" Percy asked, taking the ballpoint pen out of his pocket and uncapping Riptide.

Sylvie paused.

"You seriously want to spar with me right now?"

"Do your worst," Percy challenged, tilting his head with a small smirk.

So if you were wondering how Sylvie ended up fighting with Percy Jackson, that was how.

Sylvie surprised them both by swinging first, slicing Halcyon down like Percy was another training dummy. He was so startled that he barely managed to block it. There was that look again—the "Sylvie's surprising the fuck out of me" look.

"You know, you don't have any armor on," Sylvie reminded him, pretending like her heart wasn't beating out of its chest on the inside. This was the hardest she'd ever forced herself to act cool.

Percy teased, "Well, it's not like you're gonna hurt me."

Before Sylvie could respond, Percy swung Riptide in an arc towards her. Sylvie was quick to block the blow using Cereal, and the clinging of metal echoed around the era. She forced Riptide to point downwards, and with holding her other dagger backwards, swung at Percy with a backhand strike. Unfortunately, Percy ducked before the hit could land. It looked like she wasn't going to hurt him today.

Percy stepped back so he had a better holding on Riptide again. It swung for Sylvie's right shoulder, but Sylvie side-stepped. Percy reacted quick, jabbing the hilt of his blade, sideways in the direction Sylvie had gone.

She doubled over with a pained grunt as he hit her in the stomach. Percy's eyes widened in concern. He faltered and stepped forward. "Shit, I'm sor—Fuck!"

Sylvie suddenly swung her leg, sweeping Percy's feet, and he was falling back before he understood what was going on. He got the wind knocked out of him when his back slammed against the ground. Percy blinked, and Sylvie was standing over him, the blade of Cereal directed right at his face.

"What were you saying earlier?" Sylvie retorted, but she had this tiny, barely-restrained smile on her face that blindsided Percy again.

He blinked rapidly, snapping out of his daze.

"Yeah, yeah," Percy held up an arm for her to take. "Now help me up."

Sylvie's big mistake was falling for that. Literally. She grasped Percy's hand with hers, ready to assist him in standing, but all of a sudden Percy yanked hard. Sylvie cursed, losing her footing and flying to the ground as well.

Now Percy was the one with the upper hand. Sylvie's cheeks burned a million degrees when she noted he was hovering over her, her neck under the threat of Riptide's sharp point.

"What were you saying earlier?" Percy grinned.

Sylvie forced herself to focus. She kicked out at Percy, sending him stumbling back. Sylvie quickly stood back up, and Percy quickly steadied himself.

Their blades came at each other, celestial bronze clashing against celestial bronze. Neither of them truly were attacking the other, but Sylvie certainly was taking control. She kept backing Percy up with every swing, even if Percy was counteracting her blows. Sylvie would slice with Halcyon and Percy would take a step behind; then she'd swing with Cereal, and he'd take another.

In the back of Sylvie's mind, she knew Percy was letting her do this. Letting her have this. While Sylvie was much better at fighting than she used to be, she wasn't anywhere near the best. She wasn't Percy, who everyone claimed would dethrone Luke as the best swordsman. She wasn't dumb. Percy was just letting Sylvie work through her whirling emotions right now. He was only putting in half of his strength to prolong the fight.

But Sylvie needed a distraction. What better than one that came in the form of Percy Jackson?

Suddenly his back hit the wall. Sylvie put the point of Cereal up against his stomach, and the blade of Halcyon across his throat.

For a moment, they just stared at each other. Their heavy panting was the only noise sounding throughout the arena. Percy's eyes were darting around Sylvie, and Sylvie's focused on the pink tint to his face. She figured it must've been from the physical activity, as he couldn't gather control of his breathing either.

"Hi," he exhaled.

Sylvie's face broke out into a grin.

"'Sup."

Then Sylvie pulled away, freeing Percy from the wall. He oddly stayed there for a little as Sylvie started putting away her blades. She curled her right hand in a specific fist that shifted Halcyon from a dagger into a fingerless, green glove. Then she put Cereal back in its golden holster located on Sylvie's left arm, where a golden armband resided. If she stole the piece of jewelry from Circe, that was nobody's business but her own.

When she was done, Percy was finally off the wall, and Riptide was once again a pen in his pocket.

"Thanks," Sylvie broke the silence. "For letting me do that. And for... earlier."

"Oh," Percy said, like he just entered the conversation. "Yeah. Well, no problem. I told you it was alright."

Sylvie shook her head wryly. "You're too nice sometimes, you know that?"

"No, I mean it," said Percy. "You're too hard on yourself sometimes."

"Percy, please," she said weakly. "Can't you just let me but grateful and we can be done doing this?"

"Done doing what?" Percy questioned, desperately confused. It was like he was finally starting to see that there might be something he wasn't getting. Sylvie understood now what Annabeth said—he was acting weird recently.

Then Sylvie remembered. Annabeth.

"Nothing. It's nothing," Sylvie sighed. "We should go and check on Annabeth. She seemed upset earlier."

"Sylvie," Percy protested.

"Let's go," she ignored him.

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯

As long as Sylvie had been at camp, she'd never been inside the Athena cabin.

It was a silvery building, nothing fancy, with plain white curtains and a carved stone owl over the doorway. The owl's onyx eyes seemed to follow Sylvie as she and Percy walked closer.

"Hello?" Sylvie called inside.

Nobody answered. Percy, the impolite freak he was, stepped in anyways. Sylvie begrudgingly followed him. She stepped in and caught her breath. The place was a workshop for brainiac kids. The bunks were all pushed against one wall as if sleeping didn't matter very much. Most of the room was filled with workbenches and tables and sets of tools and weapons. The back of the room was a huge library crammed with old scrolls and leather-bound books and paperbacks. There was an architect's drafting table with a bunch of rulers and protractors, and some 3-D models of buildings. Huge old war maps were plastered to the ceiling. Sets of armor hung under the windows, their bronze plates glinting in the sun.

Annabeth stood in the back of the room, rifling through old scrolls.

"Knock, knock?" Sylvie said.

"Guess who," added Percy, like the stupid dork he was.

Annabeth turned with a start. "Oh... hi. Didn't hear you two."

"You okay?" Sylvie asked.

She frowned at the scroll in her hands. "Just trying to do some research. Daedalus's Labyrinth is so huge. None of the stories agree about anything. The maps just lead from nowhere to nowhere."

"We'll figure it out," Percy promised.

Sylvie sure hoped so. Annabeth looked so weary that it was almost painful to stare at her. The darkness in her gaze reminded Sylvie of the goddess Artemis—such old eyes for such a young girl.

"I've wanted to lead a quest since I was seven," she said.

"You're going to do awesome," Sylvie pat her on the back.

She looked at Sylvie gratefully, but then stared down at all the books and scrolls she'd pulled from the shelves. "I'm worried, you guys. Maybe I shouldn't have asked either of you to do this. Or Tyson and Grover."

"Hey, we're your friends. We wouldn't miss it."

"But..." She stopped herself.

"What is it?" Percy asked. "The prophecy?"

"I'm sure it's fine," she said in a small voice.

"What was the last line?"

Then Sylvie noticed with a jolting shock that Annabeth was shaking. Sylvie's hand on Annabeth's back started rubbing in a soothing manner, because Sylvie was too awkward and stunned to do anything else. Sylvie shot a worried look at Percy, but he seemed to be in the same boat.

"Hey, it's," Sylvie tried, "it's okay..."

"Chiron might be right," Annabeth muttered. "I'm breaking the rules. But I don't know what else to do. I need you four. It just feels right."

"Then don't worry about it," Percy managed, trying to help Sylvie. "We've had plenty of problems before, and we solved them."

"This is different. I don't want anything happening to any of you."

Behind them, somebody cleared his throat.

It was Malcolm Pace, who still didn't look too happy about Sylvie growing a tree right in front of his chariot. "Sorry," he said, " but archery practice is starting, Annabeth. Chiron said to come find you."

"Tell Chiron I'll be right there," Annabeth said, and Malcolm left with a nod. Sylvie could've sworn he sent Sylvie a lingering glare, but maybe that was her mind playing tricks on her.

"I don't think your brother likes me," Sylvie muttered.

Annabeth suddenly laughed, being pulled out of her dull mood, if even for a second.

"He'll get over it," she sniffed, rubbing her eyes. "You two go ahead. I'd better get ready for archery."

"Are you sure?" Sylvie asked worriedly.

Annabeth forced a half-hearted smile. "Positive."

So Sylvie and Percy backed away. A part of Sylvie felt like she shouldn't be doing it, but Annabeth actually did have somewhere to be. The only thing worse than failing to comfort Annabeth would be forcing Annabeth to get thrown off her schedule. Athena kids didn't play about time coordination.

"Annabeth?" Percy said, before they left. "About your prophecy. The line about a hero's last breath—"

"You're wondering which hero? I don't know."

"No. Something else. I was thinking the last line usually rhymes with the one before it. Was it something about—did it end in the word death?"

Annabeth stared down at her scrolls. "You'd better go, guys. Get ready for the quest. I'll—I'll see you in the morning."

Suddenly, Sylvie couldn't shake the feeling that one of them wasn't going to come back from this quest alive.

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯

BAILEY YAPS...

Ehehehehehe

I'm cooking up some shit y'all. A lot of lot of shit.

Normalize what exactly, you ask? Idk but whatever the hell persylv has got going on I am a fan of!!! Tag yourself in the arena scene I was Cereal...

Rest in peace Sylvie Duvall you would've loveddd therapy and anxiety meds and Tom Holland's Peter Parker and the movie Flipped and what else guys

Annabeth trying not to break down in tears and Persylv's faces killing me why nobody gaf

THAT'S A JOKE ANNABETH I LOVE YOU SYLVIE LOVES YOU

"Done doing what?" Percy questioned, desperately confused. It was like he was finally starting to see that there might be something he wasn't getting.