CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

₊˚࿐࿔ 𖥧‧₊⚘ ❀༉. 𓏲｡

Jumping out a window five hundred feet above ground is not usually Sylvie's idea of fun. Especially when she was wearing bronze wings and flapping her arms like a duck.

"We're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die!" she shouted the entire time.

Sylvie plummeted toward the valley and the red rocks below. She was pretty sure she was going to become a grease spot in the Garden of the Gods, as Annabeth yelled from somewhere above Sylvie, "Spread your arms! Keep them extended!"

The small part of her brain that wasn't engulfed in panic heard Annabeth, and her arms responded. As soon as Sylvie spread them out, the wings stiffened, caught the wind, and her descent slowed. She soared downward, but at a controlled angle, like a kite in a dive.

"Yeah!" Percy yelled from somewhere. Because he was insane, and he probably enjoyed this, and Sylvie really did wish she hated him. She was screaming in fear while he was hollering in elation.

Everyone besides Percy was just spiraling and glinting in the sunlight. Behind them, smoke billowed from the windows of Daedalus's workshop.

"Land!" Annabeth yelled. "These wings won't last forever."

"How long?" Rachel cried.

"I don't want to find out!"

"We're gonna die!" Sylvie panicked.

They swooped down toward the Garden of the Gods. Percy was confirmed crazy, because he did a complete circle around one of the rock spires—he freaked out Sylvie and a couple of climbers, though it was probably for different reasons. Then the five of them soared across the valley, over a road, and landed on the terrace of the visitor center. It was late afternoon and the place looked pretty empty, but they ripped off their wings as quickly as they could. Looking at the devices, Sylvie could see Annabeth was right. The self-adhesive seals that bound the wings to their backs were already melting, and they were shedding bronze feathers. They couldn't fix the wings, but couldn't leave them around for mortals, so they stuffed the wings in the trash bin outside the cafeteria.

Sylvie used the tourist binocular camera to look up at the hill where Daedalus's workshop had been, but it had vanished. No more smoke. No broken windows. Just the side of a hill.

"The workshop moved," Annabeth guessed. "There's no telling where."

"So what do we do now?" Percy asked. "How do we get back in the maze?"

"You want to go back?" Sylvie said incredulously.

Percy didn't respond, and Annabeth gazed at the summit of Pikes Peak in the distance. "Maybe we can't," she said. "If Daedalus died... he said his life force was tied to the Labyrinth. The whole thing might've been destroyed. Maybe that will stop Luke and Eurydice's invasion."

Sylvie thought about it—Even though Daedalus had done some terrible things and put everybody cared she about at risk, it still seemed like a pretty horrible way to die.

"No," Nico said. "He isn't dead."

"How can you be sure?" Sylvie asked.

"I know when people die. It's this feeling I get, like a buzzing in my ears."

Sylvie shivered a little, off put. She couldn't help it. Demeter kid, meet Hades kid. It was... certainly a combination.

"What about Tyson and Grover, then?" Percy asked.

Nico shook his head. "That's harder. They're not humans or half-bloods. They don't have mortal souls."

"We have to get into town," Annabeth decided. "Our chances will be better of finding an entrance to the Labyrinth. We have to make it back to camp before Luke, Eurydice, and their army."

"We could just take a plane," Rachel said.

Percy shuddered. "I don't fly."

"But you just did."

"That was low flying," Percy said, "and even that's risky. Flying up really high—that's Zeus's territory. I can't do it. Besides, we don't even have time for a flight. The Labyrinth is the quickest way back."

"Great," Sylvie and Rachel grumbled in unison. The two girls shared startled looks.

"So we need a car to take us into the city," Annabeth said.

Rachel blinked, looking away from Sylvie and instead down into the parking lot. Her shocked expression turned into a grimace, as if she were about to do something she regretted. "I'll take care of it."

"How?" Annabeth asked.

"Just trust me."

Annabeth looked uneasy, but she nodded. "Okay, I'm going to buy a prism in the gift shop, try to make a rainbow, and send an Iris-message to camp."

"I'll go with you," Nico said. "I'm hungry."

"I'll stick with Rachel, then," Percy said.

"I'll, uh," Sylvie awkwardly pointed to the gift shop, ignoring the taught strings pulling at her heart. "Yeah, the gift shop."

"You could stay here," Percy frowned.

Sylvie barely mustered up the courage to meet his look, like he'd been kicked by a puppy. Then she looked to Rachel, straightened up, and glanced back at Percy.

"I'll go to the gift shop."

Percy deflated. "Okay, then," he sounded defeated. "If that's what you want."

It's not what Sylvie wanted, and she got a feeling this was about a lot more than gift shops for the both of them.

"Meet you guys in the parking lot," Percy finished.

Rachel frowned like she didn't want Percy with her, but he followed her down to the parking lot anyway. Sylvie let herself stare at the pair for a few more seconds before turning. Both Annabeth and Nico stared at her with particular looks.

"What?" Sylvie's shoulders tensed defensively. "Are we going to the gift shop, or not?"

Annabeth sighed, and clapped a hand on Sylvie's shoulder. "Sure, Duvall. Come on."

So the trio made it over to the gift shop. Sylvie wasn't all that interested in Iris-messaging Chiron (no offense to the centaur), so she stuck with Nico. He was eyeing the few vending machines in stock, and the front of the check-out desk, where little snacks were displayed.

"What kind of food do you like?" Sylvie asked.

Nico whipped around, and if he could've, he probably would've jumped ten feet in the air. "Gods, Duvall, you need to wear a bell!"

Sylvie smiled. Something about kids of the Big Three and telling Sylvie to put on a bell.

"Sorry," she still apologized, because it actually wasn't that amusing to see Nico scared. He looked smaller and younger than he already was. "I just figured you didn't have money to buy anything. I'll cover it for you."

Nico eyed her suspiciously. His difficulty to trust something as simple as extending a favor made Sylvie sad. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I want to and I can?" Sylvie answered. She didn't want Nico to think she was pitying him (she was), so she matched his energy.

"Well, you don't have to."

Sylvie pointed at him. "But I am." Then she pulled out her mortal cash from the side of her backpack, "Now, come on, di Angelo. Take your picks. I got you."

Nico's stare lingered on Sylvie. His expression was unreadable, but Sylvie would like to say it wasn't anything negative. Or maybe she was just being vain. Either way, Nico grumbled in a way that admitted defeat.

"Fine," he said. "Then... potato chips, I guess."

Sylvie grabbed them from the front display. "Okay. I'll get two extra."

"Why?" Nico said for a second time.

"Because you need to eat."

Sylvie didn't look at Nico to give himself a moment to react to that. She figured he wasn't used to the kindness or generosity, not after Bianca. It probably wasn't easy for him to be on the receiving end of it again. But Sylvie owed this to Bianca, and she actually cared about Nico more than she'd like to admit.

Then: "Are those... pretzel bites?"

"Hey," Sylvie finally turned to him, protecting the package in her chest. "They're not for you. I'm hungry, too."

Nico stared at her with that look again. This time, a ghost of a smile appeared on his face like a momentary apparition.

After they checked out, Sylvie and Nico left the gift shop. They ate their snacks on the curb while they waited for Annabeth to finish up her Iris-message to Chion. Sure, the two could've reunited with Percy and Rachel in the distance, but neither of them seemed all that eager to.

"How's Cedar doing?" Nico asked, already opening up his second bag of chips.

Sylvie couldn't help but be caught off guard by the question. Still, she swallowed her food, then said, "Still being the same Cedar. He misses you, though. Now he's been hanging out with Will Solace more, but I don't know if you know—"

"Yeah, I know Will," Nico said. "He's cool."

"Right," Sylvie nodded. "Well, he's teaching Cedar how to become a healer in the infirmary."

"But he's a Demeter kid?"

"Yeah, but he's also a weird kid," she smiled. "I'm just letting him do what he wants."

Nico's eyes shifted, but Sylvie couldn't tell if it was in sadness or fondness. She didn't make Nico explain, either. They just let a silent beat pass as they both munched on their snacks for a little.

"Thanks for coming after us," Sylvie told him at last.

Nico stiffened, but then surprisingly let his defenses fall for a moment.

"I owed you for the ranch, Sylvie," he admitted. "Plus... I wanted to see Daedalus for myself. Minos was right, in a way. Daedalus should die. Nobody should be able to avoid death that long. It's not natural."

"That's what you were after all along," Sylvie said. "Trading Daedalus's soul for your sister's."

Nico finished his second bag of chips before answering. "It hasn't been easy, you know. Having only the dead for company. Knowing that I'll never be accepted by the living. Only the dead respect me, and they only do that out of fear."

"You could be accepted," Sylvie said. "You could have friends at camp."

He stared at her. "Do you really believe that, Sylvie?"

"Yeah," she said. "Because you already do."

Somehow, it looked like that was the hardest pill for Nico to swallow. After everything he'd been told. He looked overwhelmed, so Sylvie looked away in case her gaze made him uncomfortable. She was okay if they didn't talk again, just for Nico's sake. But he surprised her again.

"Shouldn't we not get along?" he asked suspiciously. "I mean, I'm a son of Hades, and you're a daughter of Demeter. Our parents sort of hate each other."

Sylvie looked at him, almost unamused. Her expression on him read something like really? "That stuff doesn't actually matter. And if it did, I don't care." Then, "Do you?"

Again, stunned silence from Nico's end.

"No," he said eventually. "I don't care."

"Good," Sylvie nodded, a small grin on her face.

She finished up her pretzel bites as Nico finished his final bag of chips. It made Sylvie even more sad, because he really had been so hungry. He looked like no amount of potato chips could fill his skinny frame up. She didn't say that, though. She just offered to pick up all of their trash, then threw it away in the garbage.

Sylvie couldn't help herself from looking Percy and Rachel's way after. She'd been trying to restrain herself the whole time. But now that her back wasn't to them, Sylvie's eyes were drawn to Percy Jackson like a magnet. They always would be.

"What's up with you and Percy?" Nico asked, though a little timid to do so.

Sylvie panicked, instantly pulling her gaze away from Percy. "What? What do you... There's not..."

"You were perfectly fine at the ranch," he pointed out. "But now it's all weird between you two."

"Nuh-uh," Sylvie protested childishly.

Nico huffed. "Is it because he won't leave Rachel's side?" he asked.

That was actually the last question Sylvie ever wanted to recieve, but she never had much luck in getting what she wanted. Sylvie frowned in a disgruntled fashion, face turning a flustered pink. Before she could even think about how to answer, she was saved by divine intervention. Annabeth Chase, of course.

Annabeth reunited with Sylvie and Nico, and together, the group of three headed over to Percy and Rachel.

"I talked to Chiron," Annabeth said. "They're doing their best to prepare for battle, but he still wants us back. They're going to need every hero they can get. Did we find a ride?"

"The driver's ready when we are," Rachel said.

Sylvie was shocked to find that Rachel had procured them a chauffeured Lexus for travel. The driver wore a dark suit and tie, and was talking to another guy in khakis and a polo shirt—probably his client who'd rented the car. The client was complaining, but Sylvie could hear the driver saying, "I'm sorry, sir. Emergency. I've ordered another car for you."

"Come on," Rachel said. She led them to the car and got in without even looking at the flustered guy who rented it. A minute later they were cruising down the road. The seats were leather. There was plenty of legroom. The backseat had flat-panel TV's built into the headrests and a mini-fridge stocked with bottled water, sodas, and snacks. Sylvie's friends started pigging out.

"Where to, Miss Dare?" the driver said.

"I'm not sure yet, Robert," Rachel said. "We just need to drive through town and, uh, look around.

"Whatever you say, miss."

Sylvie looked at Rachel. "Do you know this guy?"

"No."

"Oh," Sylvie nodded. "Silly me. Sorry."

"But he dropped everything to help you, Rachel," Percy defended Sylvie. "Why?"

"Both of you just keep your eyes peeled," she said. "Help me look."

Which didn't exactly quell their confusion.

They drove through Colorado Springs for about half an hour and saw nothing that Rachel considered a possible Labyrinth entrance. After about an hour they decided to head north toward Denver, thinking that maybe a bigger city would be more likely to have a Labyrinth entrance, but they were all getting nervous. They were losing time.

Then, right as they were leaving Colorado Springs, Rachel bolted upright. "Get off the highway!"

The driver glanced back. "Miss?"

"I saw something, I think. Get off here."

The driver swerved across traffic and took the exit.

"What did you see?" Percy asked.

They were pretty much out of the city now. There wasn't anything around except hills, grassland, and some scattered farm buildings. Rachel had the driver turn down this unpromising dirt road. They drove by a sign too fast for Sylvie to read it, but Rachel said, "Western Museum of Mining & Industry."

For a museum, it didn't look like much—a little house like an old-fashioned railroad station, some drills and pumps and old steam shovels on display outside.

"There." Rachel pointed to a hole in the side of a nearby hill—a tunnel that was boarded up and chained. "An old mine entrance."

"A door to the Labyrinth?" Annabeth asked. "How can you be sure?"

"Well, look at it!" Rachel said. "I mean... I can see it, okay?"

They thanked the driver and all got out. He didn't ask for money or anything. "Are you sure you'll be alright, Miss Dare? I'd be happy to call your—"

"No!" Rachel said. "No, really. Thanks, Robert. But we're fine."

The museum seemed to be closed, so nobody bothered them as they climbed the hill to the mine shaft. When they got to the entrance, Sylvie saw the mark of Daedalus engraved on the padlock, though how Rachel had seen something so tiny all the way from the highway, Sylvie had no idea.

Percy touched the padlock and the chains fell away. They kicked down a few boards and walked inside. For better or worse, they were back in the Labyrinth.

The dirt tunnels turned to stone. They wound around and split off and basically tried to confuse them, but Rachel had no trouble guiding them. They told her they needed to get back to New York, and she hardly even paused when the tunnels offered a choice.

Somehow, Sylvie, Annabeth, and Rachel ended up in a conversation as they walked. It was the most unlikely trio that could ever come out of their group of five, but here they were, talking. Sylvie asked Rachel more about her background, but Rachel was evasive, so Annabeth started talking about architecture. It turned out that Rachel knew something about it from studying art. When Annabeth and Rachel weren't talking about architecture, Sylvie and Rachel were talking about the different kinds of movements Rachel was into. Sylvie had been interested about it ever since Rachel was painted in gold, then Rachel hit the goldmine when she mentioned just a slight hint of being an environmentalist and an animal rights activist. Sylvie didn't even care that Percy had hung back, walking next to Nico in uncomfortable silence.

"Dude," Sylvie said, enthusiasm in her tone for the first time in a while, "you should've seen the stables this three-chested man made me clean. It was awful!"

Don't ask Sylvie why she sounded so excited to say that. She was just finally feeling comfortable around Rachel, which was such a big win for Sylvie that she said it all with a smile on her face.

"Three-chested man?" Rachel questioned.

"It was weird," Annabeth said. "But Sylvie shot all three of his hearts with a bow and arrow while wearing a cowboy hat."

Rachel's eyes widened on Sylvie. "Damn, Duvall, you're really cool."

Sylvie's face tinted at the praise, so she looked down at the ground. A part of her couldn't believe that Rachel—who was much more talented and better than Sylvie—thought she was the cool one. Before she could even say that aloud, Sylvie accidentally ran into Rachel, who'd stopped when Sylvie wasn't looking.

They'd come to a crossroads. The tunnel continued straight ahead, but a side tunnel T'd off to the right—a circular shaft carved from black volcanic rock.

"What is it?" Percy asked. He and Nico had finally caught up.

Rachel stared down the dark tunnel. In the dim flashlight beam, her face looked like one of Nico's specters.

"Is that the way?" Annabeth asked.

"No," Rachel said nervously. "Not at all."

"Why are we stopping then?" Sylvie questioned.

"Listen," Nico said.

Sylvie heard wind coming down the tunnel, as if the exit were close. And Sylvie smelled something vaguely familiar—something that brought back bad memories.

"Eucalyptus trees," Sylvie's voice was tight. "Like in California."

Last winter, when they'd faced Luke, Eurydice, and the Titan Atlas on the top of Mount Tamalpais, the air had smelled just like that.

"There's something evil down that tunnel," Rachel said. "Something very powerful."

"And the smell of death," Nico added, which made Sylvie feel a whole lot better.

Sylvie, Percy, and Annabeth exchanged glances.

"Luke and Eurydice's entrance," Annabeth guessed. "The one to Mount Othrys—the Titans' palace."

"I have to check it out," Percy said.

Sylvie instantly protested, "No, Percy."

"Luke and Eurydice could be right there," he said. "Or... Or Kronos. I have to find out what's going on."

"No," she stated. "If you think I'm letting you sacrifice yourself again..."

Sylvie trailed off, emotions a wild field of panic and care and anger and desperation and something a little stronger than anything else that was too over-whelming. Stronger than timidity, even.

"I'll go," Sylvie decided.

"What?" Percy looked like he'd just had the floor ripped from under him. "Sylvie, you can't."

"So you can risk your life, but I'm not allowed to?"

"Yes!" he cried, like that was the whole point. "It's too—It's too dangerous, and... and..."

Percy was panting slightly, like his brain was running faster than he could put thoughts together. A little ironically, he looked like Sylvie trying to function when she was overcome with worry. It was a foreign state for him, so Percy was virtually rendered speechless.

"Percy, I'm going, okay?" she tried to calm him down. "I'll be fine."

Percy shook his head. "We'll all go."

"No," she said. "Like you said, it's too dangerous. If they got hold of Nico, or Rachel for that matter, Kronos could use them. You stay here with Annabeth and guard them."

"Sylv, don't," Percy pleaded. "Don't go up there alone. I can't..."

Percy was begging Sylvie in a way that was almost identically similar to how Sylvie begged him back at Mount St. Helens. That realization washed over Sylvie like a tsunami. She didn't feel any fear or timidity or impending doom. It was just this, Sylvie and Percy, and it was nothing like the misery she'd been feeling around him lately.

But Sylvie suddenly understood what Percy did on Mount St. Helens. Because even though he was desperate for Sylvie not to do this, Sylvie had to. If there was even one sliver of hope that Sylvie could see Eurydice again—a hungry girl who was now a sister lost—Sylvie had to take that chance. Maybe all the mourning and sadness and anger could end. She could both stop the constant feeling of grief, and invite the feeling of hope she felt staring at Percy.

Then a feeling crashed into her, like the sea meeting the wildflowers.

While grief did find Sylvie on a random afternoon, so did love. She was suddenly thinking about him in a gruesome labyrinth filled with monsters and monstrosities about to risk her life, and she caught herself smiling. Then it hit her. Oh! I think I'm in love.

Sylvie Duvall was in love with Percy Jackson. It made more sense than anything on this planet. She should be nervous about it, thinking wildly about it like she did everything else, but this thought brought her a serene sense of calm.

"I'll be quick," Sylvie promised him, and her grin was more for herself than anything. "I won't do anything stupid."

Not when I need to make it back to you.

Annabeth took her Yankees camp out of her pocket before Percy could argue again. "At least take this Duvall," she said. "And be careful."

"Thanks."

"Sylvie?" Percy said suddenly.

Sylvie turned.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She probably looked insane—She hadn't stopped smiling since her internal realization a few minutes prior, and the beaming thing only grew at his two words. Her friends probably thought she was crazy, about to sacrifice herself with a grin on her face.

"I'm sorry, too," Sylvie said.

Then she put Annabeth's hat on.

"Here goes nothing." And Sylvie sneaked invisibly down the dark stone tunnel.

Before she even got to the exit Sylvie heard voices: the growling, barking sounds of sea-demon smiths, the telkhines.

"At least we salvaged the blade," one said. "The master will still reward us."

"Yes! Yes!" a second shrieked. "Rewards beyond measure!"

Another voice, this one more human, said: "Um, yeah, well that's great. Now, if you're done with me—"

"No, half-blood!" a telkhine said. "You must help us make the presentation. It is a great honor!"

"Gee, thanks," the half-blood said, and Sylvie realized it was Ethan Nakamura, the guy who'd run away after Percy saved his sorry life in the arena.

Sylvie crept toward the end of the tunnel. She had to remind herself she was invisible. They shouldn't be able to see her.

A blast of cold air hit Sylvie as she emerged. She was standing near the top of Mount Tam. The Pacific Ocean spread out below, gray under a cloudy sky. About fifty feet downhill, two telkhines were placing something on a big rock—something long and thin and wrapped in black cloth. Ethan was helping them open it.

"Careful fool," the telkhine scolded. "One touch, and the blade will sever your soul from your body."

Ethan swallowed nervously. "Maybe I'll let you unwrap it, then."

Sylvie glanced up at the mountain's peak, where a black marble fortress loomed, just like Sylvie had seen in her dreams. It reminded her of an oversized mausoleum, with walls fifty feet high. Sylvie had no idea how mortals could miss the fact that it was here. But then again, everything below the summit seemed fuzzy to her, as if there were a thick veil between Sylvie and the lower half of the mountain. There was magic going on here—really powerful Mist. Above her, the sky swirled into a huge funnel cloud. Sylvie couldn't see Atlas, but she could hear him groaning in the distance, still laboring under the weight of the sky, just beyond to fortress.

"There!" the telkhine said. Reverently, he lifted the weapon, and Sylvie's blood turned to ice.

It was a scythe—a six-foot-long blade curved like a crescent moon, with a wooden handle wrapped in leather. The blade glinted two different colors—steel and bronze. It was the weapon of Kronos, the one he'd used to slice up his father, Ouranos, before the gods had taken it away from him and cut Kronos to pieces, casting him into Tartarus. Now the weapon was re-forged.

"We must sanctify it in blood," the telkhine said. "Then you, half-blood, shall help present it when the lord awakes."

Sylvie ran all the way toward the fortress, her pulse pounding in her ears. She didn't want to get anywhere close to that horrible black mausoleum, but she knew what she had to do. She had to stop Kronos from rising. This might be her only chance.

Sylvie dashed through a dark foyer into the main hall. The floor shined like a mahogany piano—pure black and yet full of light. Black marble statures lined the walls. Sylvie didn't recognize the faces, but she knew she was looking at images of the Titans who'd ruled before the gods. At the end of the room, between two bronze braziers, was a dais. But none of this was what captured Sylvie's attention.

On the dais, Eurydice Arandel was crying over a golden sarcophagus.

Sylvie's heart dropped down to her stomach at the sight of her half-sister. She hadn't seen Eurydice since December, when it was revealed to Sylvie that Eurydice was planning to betray them the whole time. Back then she had been so angry, so sure of her decision—now she was just sobbing hopelessly on the coffin.

Sylvie almost was too scared to get any further towards Eurydice, but then Sylvie realized that she was invisible. For the first time, Sylvie would be able to see Eurydice, but Eurydice couldn't do the same.

So Sylvie approached the dais.

The sarcophagus was just like Sylvie remembered—about ten feet long, much too big for a human. It was carved with elaborate scenes of death and destruction, pictures of the gods being trodden under chariots, temples and famous world landmarks being smashed and burned. The whole coffin gave off an aura of extreme cold, like Sylvie was walking into a freezer. Sylvie's breath began to steam, but Eurydice was too busy crying to notice.

Sylvie drew Halcyon and Cereal and took a little comfort from the familiar weight of the daggers in her hands.

When Sylvie finally dared to look inside the sarcophagus, she didn't comprehend what she was seeing. Mortal legs, dressed in gray pants. A white T-shirt, hands folded over his stomach. One piece of his chest was missing—a clean black hole about the size of a bullet wound, right where his heart should've been. His eyes were closed. His skin was pale. A scar ran along the right side of his face.

The body in the coffin was Luke's.

Sylvie couldn't help what she did next. She was stunned at how dead Luke looked, and the fact that Eurydice was crying over him didn't make it any better. Anger filled Sylvie at that. Eurydice had let this all happen. Eurydice had joined this side. Now she had the audacity to cry the same way Sylvie did after Eurydice betrayed her?

Stupidly, Sylvie took off Annabeth's invisibility hat.

"What have you done?" Sylvie asked, disgusted.

Eurydice gasped in surprise. She jolted back off of the sarcophagus, scrambling and standing up. Sylvie knew that was Kronos in Luke's body next to her. Sylvie knew there was a sword in Eurydice's hand. But she didn't care about either of those things. She breathed heavily, staring in disbelief at her sister.

"S-Sylvie?" Eurydice wiped her tears with the back of her hand. "What are you doing here?"

"Fuck you!" Sylvie snapped. "What have you done?"

Shockingly, Eurydice actually looked a little sheepish at this. Like even her horrific mind could understand that this was horrific. Sylvie hated Luke, but this was an entirely new level of evil.

"It—" Eurydice let out a strangled breath. "It was the only option."

Sylvie laughed angrily. "Oh, bullshit. That's Luke talking."

"You shouldn't be here, Sylvie," she just said.

"Neither should you!" Sylvie cried. She was realizing now that this was the breaking point Sylvie was inevitably leading to. It wasn't Percy's fake death, it wasn't anything with Percy at all. It was here and now with someone Sylvie used to think of as her closest relative. "You hate this choice you made, I know it! You may have tricked me in everything else, but I know it."

Eurydice finally blinked out of her daze. She swallowed the shock of seeing Sylvie here, and she swallowed the agony of seeing Kronos in Luke's body. Sylvie saw it in the way her hand tightened on the hilt of her sword.

"You still don't get it," she shook her head. "You want to judge me, but you're doing the exact same thing!"

Sylvie's eyes widened incredulously. "Am I? Enlighten me, Eurydice!"

"You've been following Percy since the moment your pathetic ass had a chance to," seethed Eurydice. "You care about him, so you stay with him, no matter what he does to you. You'll grasp onto any semblance of comfort you can find, because you're so pitifully devoid of love that it kills you inside."

Sylvie took a step back, as if the verbal shot had been a physical shove.

"We're the same, you and me," Eurydice stated. "You know it, deep down."

"No, I..." Sylvie couldn't even swallow, her throat was so dry. "I would never let this happen."

They weren't the same, she tried telling herself. They weren't the same. They weren't the same. They weren't the same.

But then she thought about what Katie almost told her:

I've seen that look before, Sylvie, and that's why I'm scared for you. Because Eur—

Eurydice must have been thinking the same thing. She huffed, though with no humor. "You wouldn't?" she tilted her head condescendingly. "You say that now, but you're such a fucking coward that I bet you wouldn't even manage a sad little frown before everything crumbled beneath your feet!"

And Sylvie...

Sylvie charged for her sister, daggers drawn and all.

Things went in and out, her mind in an uproar, and she was here, then gone, here, then not, and back again. Sylvie felt like the world was spinning around her, swirling in a hazy wash of dull watercolors, the air stale and the stench of death and blood clinging to the inside of her nose.

The first time Sylvie attacked Eurydice on this very mountain, Sylvie didn't know what she was doing. She was confused and sad and feeling so many emotions at once that all she could do was tackle Eurydice. It was an unstable move with no thought or motive.

But now Sylvie was angry in a way she'd never been in her life.

This wasn't anger like when Sylvie got made fun of for being southern. This wasn't anger like when her daggers got mistaken for knives. This wasn't anger like when Sylvie's siblings stole her things without permission. This wasn't anger like Sylvie being forgotten time and time again, even though she was desperately trying to be known. This wasn't even anger like when Sylvie found out Percy was with Calypso, or when he spent the second half of their quest so close to Rachel.

This was a rage so pure it burned like a wildfire.

Sylvie fought Eurydice with a power Eurydice hadn't even known Sylvie to have. Sylvie let out an angry cry, slicing again and again and again at Eurydice, causing the older Demeter sister to keep backing up with poorly-restrained fear.

"Sylvi—"

"I did everything for you!" Sylvie shouted, then hit Eurydice again. "And this is what you do to me?!"

Eurydice's own sister. Sylvie, who would still willingly die for Eurydice, if it wasn't for the fact that the boy she loved wanted her to come back.

And it was here, with Eurydice underneath the threat of Sylvie's daggers, that Sylvie realized she hated her, too.

After everything that Sylvie did for her, suffered for her, tried to be for her. After all of that, it was Eurydice who threw it away, angry and betrayed and hurt. Sylvie's own sister. Eurydice, who would still willingly slaughter Sylvie.

And Sylvie hated her for it.

Sylvie hit her again, heaving out a harsh breath that escaped Sylvie like a sob as she confessed, "I hate you. I fucking hate you. Why would you do this? How could you do this, after—after all of it? All I've ever done is love you!"

Sylvie swung so hard with Halcyon that, if the hit had landed, she would've sliced Eurydice's arm clean off. But Eurydice managed to block the blow with her own blade. Metal clanging echoed around the mausoleum, the noise rang in Sylvie's ears like a fallen symphony. She followed up her strike with Cereal.

Sylvie's dagger pierced Eurydice's shoulder, digging a cut through her shirt and skin.

This was Eurydice's second reality check. Her hand came up to cradle her shoulder, blood slipping through her bronze fingers. She parted her mouth, eyes widening on Sylvie.

Sylvie didn't care.

"I hate you!" she yelled. Another swing. "I hate you!" Her voice cracked. Another swing. "I hate you!" Her eyes glowed a leafy-green. Another swing. "I hate you!" From out of nowhere, vines were conjured from Sylvie's daggers. They began curling around her arms like sleeves.

Another swing

"I FUCKING HATE YOU!"

Sylvie hit Eurydice with so much power that Eurydice fell down with a resounding thud. Sylvie didn't even realize what her eyes were doing, or that there were vines growing on her skin. She just kept walking towards Eurydice with nothing but rage on her mind.

Eurydice scrambled backwards. The hand that held her sword pushed back, while the other came up in front of her like it was pleading innocence.

"Wait—Wait—Sylvie, please!"

Sylvie blinked out of her anger-filled stupor. Eurydice... sounded so sad.

"Please, S-Sylvie," she begged. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. Please."

The vines receded up Sylvie's arms and went back into her daggers. Sylvie's arms fell in shock. Eurydice was here, and she was hurt, and just because she said please, Sylvie forgave her. Just like that. Because Sylvie was weak for Eurydice, and one simple word out of her sister's mouth had Sylvie in shambles.

"I didn't mean to..." Sylvie put Cereal in its golden holster with shaking hands. She turned Halcyon back into a glove. "Oh, gods, Eurydice, I—I didn't mean to do that. I didn't mean to do that. I'm so—I'm so—I'm—Fuck."

Sylvie threw away all her defenses, swaying slightly. She held out her gloveless hand out towards Eurydice to help her stand up. How had Sylvie ever tried to hurt her so bad? This was her big sister. Always her big sister. Sylvie was awful for attacking Eurydice like this.

Eurydice grasped Sylvie's hand, and then she was on her feet. She analyzed Sylvie oddly, the area underneath her eyes so deplorably hollow. She could have been one of Nico's ghosts, walking this world in an undead daze, glorified in a way Sylvie could never be. And then, with furrowed brows, she pulled Sylvie into a warm embrace. Sylvie stiffened in surprise, but soon sunk into the comforting circle of Eurydice's arms, her gut instinct screaming with the gesture of returning her gentle hold. But this was just her big sister.

"Sylv," Eurydice whispered into Sylvie's amber hair, breathing in the lingering scent of strawberry fields long forgotten.

"Eury?" Sylvie whispered back.

"I'm sorry," she said shakily, "but you can't be here right now," and she plunged her sword straight into Sylvie's back.

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯

BAILEY YAPS...

Uhhh

Debit or credit!

Actually so much happened in this chapter I could barely fit it all in wow um

SylvieNico siblingism is so real. CedarNicoWill epic trioism will be so real. SylvieAnnabethRachel trioism is actively so real.

SYLVIE REALIZED SHE LOVES PERCY????????

SYLVIE AND EURYDICE FIGHT???????

RAGE SYLVIE?????????

Sylvie got stabbed :P

Uh I think I'll leave that here folks!

Hope everyone eh enjoyed

To be continued...