CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

₊˚࿐࿔ 𖥧‧₊⚘ ❀༉. 𓏲｡

"I don't like this," Percy said for the millionth time. Every time he pivoted in his pacing, he'd utter the four words. "I really don't like this—"

"We know," Rachel groaned.

Percy turned. "She's in so much danger right now that you don't even understand!" Then, "That's it. I'm done waiting. We have to go after her."

"Percy," Annabeth sighed. "I know you're worried about Sylvie, but you need to trust her."

"I trust her more than anything!" he said. "But I don't trust her sister. Or anyone else she's probably around right now! We need to go in there."

"Are you sure?" Nico asked.

"I don't care if you guys follow me or not, but I'm going after Sylvie," he decided.

Then Percy pivoted for the final time and headed straight for Mount Tamalpais's entrance. He crept down the dark stone tunnel before anyone stopped him. He heard his friends' protests from behind (at least, that's what he thought they were), but he ignored everything for the sake of finding Sylvie.

Percy couldn't lie, he was nervous. Well, yes, we established the whole worried about Sylvie thing, but that had now become only half of it. Because the tunnels were eerily silent. You would think that would make Percy less panicked, but he had this horrible feeling that it had to do with Sylvie somehow. She's what everything led back to for him recently, so it would unfortunately make sense. 

He made it to the end of the tunnel, where a blast of cold air hit Percy at the top of Mount Tam.

Percy was quick to notice a black marble fortress at the mountain's peak. His blood went even colder than the atmosphere when he finally heard voices coming from the huge mausoleum.

He started heading towards it, ignoring the feeling of powerful Mist fighting against him. He ignored the storm raging above him. He ignored the sounds of Atlas holding up the sky. He ignored everything until he ended up in the fortress's dark foyer.

Percy heard voices, so he paused.

"What has happened?!" an evil voice screamed.

"I had some company," a second voice sounded. Eurydice, he noted. "I took care of it."

"That matters not anymore!" a third voice warned. "Perhaps he stirs. We must present the gifts now. Immediately."

There was shuffling and maneuvering of an object that had to be huge. In between, Percy would occasionally hear weak groaning and protests of a girl's voice. Before he could try and decipher it—

"My lord."

"Your symbol of power is remade."

Silence.

"You idiots," Eurydice snapped, though her voice was shaky. "We need that half-blood first."

"Woah, what do you mean, you need me? And what did you do to her?"

Ethan Nakamura.

"Shut up, Nakamura!" said Eurydice. "Don't be a coward, I'm not going to do that to you. We just need your allegiance. Pledge him your service. Renounce the gods. That's all."

"No!" Percy yelled, running straight into the main hall. It was a stupid thing to do, but he charged anyways. "Ethan, don't!"

"Trespasser!" The telkhines in the room bared their seal teeth. "The master will deal with you soon enough. Hurry, boy!"

"Ethan..." a weak voice groaned. "Don't."

Percy had to do a double take over the talking heap of clothes on the floor. Then his heart dropped all the way to his feet. That wasn't a pile of anything. It was Sylvie.

She was pale and bleeding.

"What did you do to her?" Percy roared at Eurydice. The sword in her hands was the same color of blood as Sylvie's stomach. Sylvie's hands were desperately trying to push on the wound, but Percy had a sinking realization that solution wouldn't be able to last for long.

Sylvie shook her head. "P-Perce," she whispered. "Stop, you... you have to destroy it."

"Destroy what?" Percy asked desperately. His voice cracked once. Sylvie didn't look good. He wanted to help her—He needed to help her, but he couldn't understand what she was saying.

"It doesn't matter," Ethan turned toward Percy, his eye patch blending with the shadows on his face. His expression was something like pity. "I told you not to spare me, Percy. 'An eye for an eye.' You ever hear that saying? I learned what it means the hard way—when I discovered my godly parent. I'm the child of Nemesis, Goddess of Revenge. And this is—"

"I don't care!" Percy snapped. "How do I help Sylvie? What do I need to destroy?"

Ethan shook his head, sighing. He turned toward the dais. "I renounce the gods! What have they ever done for me? I will see them destroyed. I will serve Kronos."

The building rumbled, and it made Sylvie wince harder. Before Percy knew what he was doing, he was sliding to her side, slipping on some blood. There was way too much of it.

"Go," Sylvie pleaded. "Before..."

"I'm not leaving you, Silviana Duvall, so don't ever say that again," Percy tried to sound stern, but his voice was shaky. "What's—Where's the cut? How do I help you?"

Percy was desperately cradling one of her hands in both of his. The blood on Sylvie's skin smeared onto Percy's, but he didn't care. Her body was quivering and this wasn't good, this wasn't good, this wasn't good.

With Sylvie's other hand, she mustered all of her strength to point behind Percy.

He whipped his head, thinking she'd given him a solution to heal her. But all Percy saw was a wisp of blue light. It rose from the floor at Ethan's feet and drifted toward the coffin. It began to shimmer, like a cloud of pure energy. Then it descended into the sarcophagus.

"Luke," Sylvie exhaled.

Luke? Percy wondered. What did she—

But all of a sudden, the body of Luke Castellan sat bolt upright. Percy cursed furiously at how badly the sight scared him—it was almost worse than seeing Sylvie bleeding out. Almost.

Luke's eyes opened, and they were no longer blue. They were golden, the same color as the coffin.

"He's..." Sylvie tried telling him, but Percy already understood.

He's Kronos.

Percy's grip on Sylvie's hand went slack with shock. He stood up, standing between the coffin and Sylvie to try and protect her, though Percy worried he was too late to do that.

Luke leaped out of the coffin with ease, and where his feet touched the floor, the marble froze like craters of ice.

He looked at Sylvie, Eurydice, Ethan, and the telkhines with those horrible golden eyes, as if he were a newborn baby, not sure what he was seeing. Then he looked at Percy, and a smile of recognition crept across his mouth.

"This body has been well prepared." His voice was like a razor blade running over Percy's skin. It was Luke's, but not Luke's. Underneath his voice was another, more horrible sound—an ancient, cold sound like metal scraping against rock. "Don't you think so, Percy Jackson?"

Percy couldn't move. He couldn't answer.

Kronos threw back his head and laughed. The scar on his face rippled.

"Luke feared you," the Titan's voice said. "His jealousy and hatred have been powerful tools. It has kept him obedient. For that I thank you."

Ethan collapsed in terror. He covered his face with his hands. Eurydice's careless demeanor cracked into pure agony. The telkhines trembled, holding up the scythe.

Finally Percy found his nerve. He wasn't going to let Sylvie die. He lunged at the thing that used to be Luke, thrusting his blade right at Kronos's chest, but the skin deflected the blow like he was made out of pure steel. He looked at Percy with amusement. Then he flicked his hand, and Percy flew across the room.

Percy slammed against a pillar. He struggled to his feet, constantly letting the thought of Sylvie push him through this fight. He blinked the stars out of his eyes, but Kronos had already grasped the handle of his scythe.

"Ah... much better," he said. "Backbiter, Luke called it. An appropriate name. Now that it is reforged completely, it shall indeed bite back."

"What have you done to Luke?" Percy groaned.

Kronos raised his scythe. "He served me with his whole being, as I require. The difference is, he feared you, Percy Jackson. I do not."

That's when Percy booked it for Sylvie. There wasn't even any thought about it. No debate in his mind about if Percy should stand up to Kronos and try to fight again. He just needed to be with Sylvie.

But Percy's feet felt like lead. Time slowed down around him, like the world was turning to Jell-O. Percy had this feeling once before, and he knew it was the power of Kronos. His presence was so strong it could bend time itself.

"Run for her, little hero," he laughed. "Run!"

Percy glanced back and saw Kronos approaching leisurely, swinging his scythe as if he were enjoying the feel of having it in his hands again. No weapon in the world could stop him. No amount of celestial bronze.

Kronos was ten feet away when he heard, "PERCY!"

Rachel's voice.

Something flew past Percy, and a blue plastic hairbrush hit Kronos in the eye.

"Ow!" he yelled. For a moment it was only Luke's voice, full of surprise and pain.

Percy's limbs were freed and he ran straight to Sylvie finally. He didn't waste any time in throwing her arm across his shoulder and wrapping a hand around her waist. Sylvie cried out in more pain, which was how Percy realized she'd been impaled at the bottom left of her stomach. It didn't seem like any organs were ruptured, and Percy thanked the gods. He could work with that.

Percy whispered a miserable apology to Sylvie with every step, but they couldn't stop moving. He limped Sylvie over to Annabeth, Rachel, and Nico, who were standing in the entry hall, their eyes wide with dismay.

"Luke?" Annabeth called. "What—"

Percy's hands were full, so all he could do was kick Annabeth as now was not the time. He started hauling Sylvie, and all of his friends got the memo, booking it away from the fortress. Percy tried running as fast as he could, but Sylvie was like a dead weight that slowed him down.

"No," Sylvie grunted in protest. She tried squirming out of Percy's grip, but he only tightened his hold, wanting nothing more to keep her safe. "No, Percy, stop it! I can—I can run!"

She couldn't. Percy knew she couldn't. Sylvie just didn't want to slow the group down.

Percy didn't have an opportunity to decide, because Sylvie took his devastation to her advantage and shoved him. Percy was forced to let go of Sylvie, and he couldn't grab her again. Sylvie was already bolting away before he could. She used the last of her strength to run, and Percy continued sprinting too.

They were almost back to the Labyrinth entrance when Percy heard the loudest bellow in the world—the voice of Kronos, coming back into control. "AFTER THEM!"

"NO!" Nico yelled. He clapped his hands together, and a jagged spire of rock the size of an eighteen-wheeler erupted from the ground right in front of the fortress. The tremor it caused was so powerful the front columns of the building came crashing down. Percy heard muffled screams from the telkhines inside. Dust billowed everywhere.

They plunged into the Labyrinth and kept running, the howl of the Titan lord shaking the entire world behind them.

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯

Rachel steered them away from traps, but they had no destination in mind—only away from that dark mountain and the roar of Kronos.

They ran until Sylvie collapsed.

She fell in a tunnel of wet white rock, like a part of a natural cave. Percy had never reacted quicker to anything in his entire life. Everyone gasped as Sylvie went down, but it was Percy who shot down to her side.

Sylvie's eyes were shut, and her breathing was weak. She was even paler than in the mausoleum, which was absolutely terrifying, because Sylvie was usually so sun-kissed in a way that Percy felt touched by the sun himself. Sweat and blood coated her skin, and now, basically her entire shirt and shorts were soaked with blood.

"No, no, no, no," Percy muttered, voice cracking. He pushed the damp pieces of Sylvie's hair out of her face, holding it desperately. "Come on, Sylvie. Come on. Hey, Sylv, stop. Wake up."

It wasn't much, but he did hear a quiet whimper.

Percy cursed gratefully. It was a horrible time to smile, but he did it anyways.

"Still with me, Duvall?"

"Always—Always with you," she grunted, words delirious and slurred.

"Perfect," Percy breathed, although nothing was perfect about this moment. In fact, Sylvie's eyes were drifting closed again. "Hey, no! Hey, Sylvie." He pat her face. "You need to stay awake. Keep your eyes open, okay?"

Sylvie grinned, dazed. "Because you like them?"

She was looking up at Percy with genuine hope, and it was so cute that Percy couldn't help but laugh softly through the tears he hadn't even realized were there.

"Sure, yeah," he smiled back. "Keep your eyes open because I like them."

So Sylvie Duvall kept her eyes open because Percy Jackson liked them.

Then Annabeth took over, and Percy had never been more thankful for the daughter of Athena in his life. Albeit, Annabeth was doing it all while sobbing, because she was so horrified from what she'd seen of Luke, but even she set that aside for Sylvie's sake. Percy didn't know why she had more first-aid supplies than Camp Half-Blood's infirmary. He didn't care. He just kept praying and praying and praying to every single god he could think of. The Olympians, the minor gods, the even more minor minor gods. All of them. Even Zeus and Ares. Every prayer was the same exact thing: Please let Sylvie be okay.

Annabeth told Rachel to help her shift Sylvie to sit against a white rock, and Rachel listened. Annabeth told Nico to help feed Sylvie ambrosia, and Nico listened. Annabeth told Percy to hold Sylvie's hand and a flask of nectar, and Percy sure as shit listened.

Everything was happening too fast, and that was coming from Percy, whose brain was supposed to be hard-wired for fast-paced, tense situations like this. However, now his brain was just Sylvie, Sylvie, Sylvie. This was the one fight Percy wouldn't ever stand a chance in.

Because Sylvie's shirt was so ruined, Annabeth had to cut it off in order to properly help her. Sylvie was wearing an athletic, sports bra underneath, but that wasn't even what anyone cared about, because she was literally bleeding out before their eyes.

Luckily, Annabeth was almost as worried about Sylvie as Percy was. She got to dressing the wound quickly. Percy would describe the process to you if he had any idea what Annabeth was doing, but he didn't. Again, he was just thankful for Annabeth's existence.

Annabeth suddenly cleaned the wound with a solution that Percy was pretty sure consisted of nectar, rubbing alcohol, and some other medical shit that the Apollo kids used on impalements like these. Sylvie cried out louder in pain, curling upwards, but Percy pushed her back down.

The contact brought Sylvie's attention onto Percy. He was pretty sure she was looking at him, but her eyes were unfocused. "Hey," she grunted, mind incoherent.

"Hi."

"No, you—you didn' lemme... finish," her eyebrows furrowed in a disgruntled way. Her southern accent was laying down thickly. Percy felt awful for finding it all absolutely adorable, considering the situation at hand. "Was it... Was it a dream, or not?"

Percy shook his head, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Annabeth did something that made Sylvie gasp sharply, and she tried sitting up again. Percy repeated the act of guiding her back down.

"Did you... actually kiss me? Was that—real?"

Percy's breath hitched, sharp and cutting as he took her in. Tenderness dissolved his composure.

It came in a wave—slow and small until it rolled into a roaring, crashing behemoth that knocked him off his feet and swallowed him whole. The craving to kiss her again was instantaneously palpable and unmanageable. It thrummed through his every vein like water rushing through a riverbed.

Sylvie was bleeding out, suffering from a stab wound given to her by her own half-sister, yet his fingers were still twitching to hold Sylvie's face. His body throbbed with the drowning panic of this wretched moment, yet soared like a highflying bird because he didn't think he had ever wanted anything more than Sylvie. He wanted her, unimaginably, wholly.

Gods almighty, he might need a lobotomy.

"It was real," Percy admitted, and it made his cheeks go red. Sylvie grinned weakly.

"Score."

And the gods must have been on Percy's side that day, for once. Because Annabeth went through the rest of the procedure that was dressing a stab wound, and Sylvie didn't die. Sylvie was fine, and maybe, just maybe, Percy would land that opportunity of kissing her again. Even if he did or didn't, right now he didn't care. Because Sylvie was okay. That was all he asked for.

Well, okay was a way of putting it.

Sylvie was actually still very weak. In fact, she was currently unconscious. Percy had dug into his bag and grabbed one of the spare shirts he packed, giving it to Annabeth for her to dress Sylvie in. Sylvie and Annabeth struggled to get her into it, and even that amount of effort on Sylvie's end had her passing out right after.

Now Percy was on "Sylvie watch." But Nico was sitting on a nearby rock, watching from afar. Percy heard him take a shaky breath.

"That sucked," he said, which Percy thought summed things up pretty well.

"You saved our lives," Percy said.

Nico tried wiping Sylvie's blood off his face. "Blame the girls for dragging me along. That's the only thing they could agree on. We needed to help you and Sylvie. Clearly, you needed it."

Percy looked back down at Sylvie's sleeping figure. Without even realizing, Percy had wrapped his hand around Sylvie's wrist, running his thumb along the inside of it just like he had in the Big House. It was as comforting of a motion for Percy as it seemed to be for Sylvie. So he didn't stop doing it.

"I could feel her dying, Percy, it..." Nico struggled through his words. "She was close. Way too close."

Percy couldn't even let himself swallow the depth of Nico's words. He ignored them completely. If he let himself truly think about... that, he would go absolutely insane.

"Nico," Percy looked back at him, "you, uh, kind of gave yourself away."

"What do you mean?"

"That wall of black stone? That was pretty impressive. If Kronos didn't know who you were before, he does now—a child of the Underworld."

Nico frowned. "Big deal."

Percy let it drop. He figured Nico was just trying to hide how scared he was, and Percy couldn't blame him.

Annabeth lifted her head. Her eyes were red from crying. But it wasn't from Sylvie, and Percy knew that because she'd been crying even before Sylvie collapsed. It hadn't stopped since they left Mount Tam.

"What... What was wrong with Luke?" she finally asked. "What did they do to him?"

Percy told her the way the last piece of Kronos's spirit had entered Luke's body when Ethan Nakamura pledged his service.

"No," Annabeth said. "That can't be true. He couldn't—"

"He gave himself over to Kronos," Percy said. "I'm sorry, Annabeth. But Luke is gone."

"No!" she insisted. "You saw when Rachel hit him."

Percy nodded, looking at Rachel with respect. "You hit the Lord of the Titans in the eye with a blue plastic hairbrush."

Rachel looked embarrassed. "It was the only thing I had."

"But you saw," Annabeth insisted. "When it hit him, just for a second, he was dazed. He came back to his senses."

"So maybe Kronos wasn't completely settled in the body, or whatever," Percy said. "It doesn't mean Luke was in control."

"You want him to be evil, is that it?" Annabeth yelled. "You didn't know him before, Percy. I did!"

"What is it with you?" Percy snapped. "Why do you keep defending him?"

"Woah, you two," Rachel said. "Knock it off."

Annabeth let out a frustrated yell. Then her voice broke as she snapped, "Sylvie would understand!"

Before Percy knew it, Annabeth was storming off. Not out of sight, just far enough where she could curl into herself and avoid the quest-mates that didn't support her 'I can fix Luke!' cause. Percy didn't even try to be sympathetic, didn't even want to comfort her. Not when Kronos's side had done this to Sylvie.

"What would I understand?" a hoarse voice muttered.

Percy's head snapped down at Sylvie in shock. Her eyes were fluttering open, though they still looked sad and tired. He dropped his grip on her wrist, hoping she assumed that was a dream, too.

"Hey, there," Percy tried to sound casual, but he was just too happy to see her awake.

"What... What happened?" she croaked.

Percy's eyebrows knitted, because that was a tough question. "Um—What's the last thing you remember?"

Sylvie winced the more she woke up. While her wound was still dressed, and she was loaded up with as much ambrosia and nectar that was possible for a demigod to have, it probably still hurt terribly.

"We were running, and I..." Sylvie tried sitting up more, and this time, Percy actually helped her do it, "I wasn't wearing this shirt before."

Percy blushed again. Seeing her in his blue shirt that was properly oversized on Sylvie was a nauseating sight, but in the best way possible.  

"Yeah, uh, it's mine." Hastily, to try and smooth over that confession, he told Sylvie about what happened after she passed out the first time. Though, Percy chose to leave out the discussion about her eyes and their kiss and the thoughts of kissing her again.

Sue him. Sylvie made him nervous.

"Now I'm just making sure you're okay," Percy finished.

"I don't need you to take care of me," Sylvie said, wiping her forehead dry of sweat. But Percy wanted to.

However, instead of saying that, he forced humor into his tone. "Well maybe don't get stabbed next time, and I won't have to."

Percy was waiting for that half-hearted glare Sylvie sent him every time Percy threw a tease her way, but it never came. The only thing her eyes did was grow heartbroken. Nico and Rachel must've noticed the shift Percy unintentionally led the conversation into, because they both walked a few feet away.

"Eurydice, she..." Sylvie tried, but her voice sounded weaker than it had ever been.

"I know," Percy said, because he did.

Sylvie choked a little. It reminded him of the first time Eurydice betrayed her, and Sylvie cried into his arms. He could recognize the signs now, but he didn't know if that was a good or bad thing.

"I was so stupid, Perce," she exhaled. "I always do this. I'm always such an idiot."

Percy couldn't take it. I'm such an idiot, she'd told him once before. It hurt to hear it then, and it hurt to hear it now.

"You're not," he insisted. He'd never been more sure of anything else in his life. Never been more sure of anyone else in his life. "It's not your fault, Sylv. It never is."

Percy realized that while he'd been looking at Sylvie, Sylvie had been looking at Percy the entire time.

"I left you alone," he found himself blurting.

Sylvie's brows furrowed in confusion. If she had the energy to shake her head, she would've.

"No, you... you came back for me, actually."

"That's not what I mean," Percy said, voice strained. "Before," he clarified. "Before Kronos. Before we went back to the maze. When I..."

When I was on Ogygia with Calypso, he meant. Percy hoped Sylvie got the message, so he didn't have to say it aloud. He knew she did when her hand fidgeted with her fingerless glove nervously.

"Oh."

"Yeah." He repeated, "I left you alone."

Percy watched as Sylvie swallowed thickly. He was surprised she held his gaze for so long, as she usually had issues maintaining eye contact with people.

"It's okay," she said, "if you... don't let it happen again."

He didn't know why he was so relieved to hear those words. It was just that she'd been so mad at him recently that he would've gone insane if it lasted one more day. He would've drowned the world himself if he had to, all so that Sylvie didn't tense up at his every action.

"It won't ever happen again."

Sylvie's responding smile was the best thing that happened to him since he kissed her at Mount St. Helens.

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"We have to keep moving," Nico said after a few minutes. "Kronos will send monsters after us."

Nobody was in any shape to run, but Nico was right. Percy hauled Sylvie up at the same time Rachel walked up to them.

"You did good back there," Sylvie told her. This time, she wasn't even trying to escape Percy's hold. She let him wrap his arm around her waist, hand carefully avoiding her piercing wound. She threw her arm around his shoulders, leaning on him for support. It felt nice.

Rachel managed a weak smile. "Yeah, well. I didn't want you to die... Or Percy. I guess."

"Hey!" he protested.

Sylvie suddenly noticed Annabeth curled up with her head in her knees.

"Come on," she muttered to Percy, forcing herself to limp over to where Annabeth was. "Hey, Chase," she said, and Annabeth's head snapped up in relief to hear Sylvie's voice, however broken it was. "I'm sorry about everything that happened. It isn't easy, and trust me I know that. But... we need to move."

Percy didn't know how, but Annabeth was right. Sylvie did seem to understand how Annabeth felt. Even after everything Sylvie had just been through, she still found it in herself to show consideration towards Annabeth's situation with Luke. She was such an amazing person that it blindsided Percy most of the time.

"I know," Annabeth said. "I'm... I'm alright."

She was clearly not alright, but luckily, she looked a little better now that she had Sylvie. Annabeth got to her feet, and they started straggling through the Labyrinth again.

"Back to New York," Percy said. "Rachel, can you—"

He froze. A few feet in front of them, Sylvie's flashlight beam fixed on a trampled clump of red fabric lying on the ground. It was a Rasta cap: the one Grover always wore.

Percy carefully shifted Sylvie to Annabeth. His hands shook as he picked up the cap. It looked like it had been stepped on by a huge muddy boot. After all that Percy'd gone through today, he couldn't stand the thought that something might've happened to Grover, too.

Then Percy noticed something else. The cave floor was mushy and wet from the water dripping off the stalactites. They were large footprints like Tyson's, and smaller ones—goat hooves—leading off to the left.

"We have to follow them," Percy said. "They went that way. It must've been recently."

"What about Camp Half-Blood?" Nico said.

"We have to find them," Sylvie insisted.

Annabeth nodded. "They're our friends."

She readjusted her grip on Sylvie, and they forged ahead.

Percy followed, bracing himself for the worst. The tunnel was treacherous. It sloped at weird angles and was slimy with moisture. Half the time they were slipping and sliding rather than walking.

Finally they got to the bottom of a slope and found themselves in a large cave with huge stalagmite columns. Through the center of the room ran an underground river, and Tyson was sitting by the banks, cradling Grover in his lap. Grover's eyes were closed. He wasn't moving.

"Tyson!" Percy yelled.

"Percy! Come quick!"

They ran over to him. Grover wasn't dead, thank the gods, but his whole body trembled like he was freezing to death.

"What happened?" Sylvie asked.

"So many things," Tyson murmured. "Large snake. Large dogs. Men with swords. But then... we got close to here. Grover was excited. He ran. Then we reached this room, and he fell. Like this. What happened to you?"

Tyson seemed to notice Sylvie's... well, everything. In return, Sylvie looked fond that Tyson could worry about her at a time like this despite everything going. For some reason, Percy felt the same.

"I just got stabbed a little, it's okay," Sylvie waved her free hand. "But, Grover. Did he say anything?"

"He said, 'We're close.' Then he hit his head on the rocks."

Percy kneeled next to him. The only other time he'd seen Grover pass out was in New Mexico, when he'd felt the presence of Pan.

Percy shone his flashlight around the cavern. The rocks glittered. At the far end was the entrance to another cave, flanked by gigantic columns of crystal that looked like diamonds. And beyond that entrance...

"Grover," Percy said. "Wake up."

"Uhhhhhhhh."

Sylvie shifted all her weight onto Annabeth so that she could stick up her leg. Then, she brought it down and straight up kicked Grover in the gut.

"Shit!" His eyes fluttered. "Percy? Sylvie? Annabeth? Where..."

"It's okay," Percy said. "You passed out. The presence was too much for you."

"I—I remember. Pan."

"Yeah," Percy said. "Something powerful is just beyond that doorway."

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Percy made quick introductions, since Tyson and Grover had never met Rachel. Tyson told Rachel she was pretty, and Grover said she seemed alright "for a ginger."

"Anyway," Percy said. "Come on, Grover. Lean on me."

So Sylvie leaned on Annabeth and Grover leaned on Percy—Percy and Annabeth got fed up really quickly with Sylvie and Grover's jokes about being the world's best crippled pair.

Together they waded across the underground river. The current was strong. The water came up to their waists. Percy willed all of his friends to stay dry, which was a handy little ability, but they could still feel the cold, like wading through a snowdrift. Sylvie was probably miserable right now.

Predictably, she shivered, "I hate this."

"I think we're in Carlsbad Caverns," Annabeth said, her teeth chattering. "Maybe an unexplored section."

"How do you know?"

"Carlsbad is in New Mexico," she said. "That would explain last winter."

Percy nodded. Grover's swooning episode had happened when they passed through New Mexico. That's where he'd felt closest to the power of Pan.

They got out of the water and kept walking. As the crystal pillars loomed larger, Percy started to feel the power emanating from the next room. He'd been in the presence of gods before, but this was different. His skin tingled with living energy. His weariness fell away, as if he'd just gotten a good night's sleep. Percy could feel himself growing stronger, like one of those plants in a time-lapse video. And the scent coming from the cave was nothing like the dank wet underground. It smelled of trees and flowers and a warm summer day.

Grover whimpered with excitement. Percy was too stunned to talk. Even Nico seemed speechless. They stepped into the cave, and Sylvie said, "Fuck, wow."

The walls glittered with crystals—red, green, and blue. In the strange light, beautiful plants grew—giant orchids, star-shaped flowers, vines bursting with orange and purple berries that crept among the crystals. The cave floor was covered with soft green moss. Overhead, the ceiling was higher than a cathedral, sparkling like a galaxy of stars. In the center of the cave stood a Roman-style bed, gilded wood shaped like a curly U, with velvet cushions. Animals lounged around it—but they were animals that shouldn't have been alive. There was a dodo bird, something that looked like a cross between a wolf and a tiger, a huge rodent like the mother of all guinea pigs, and roaming behind the bed, picking berries with its trunk, was a wooly mammoth.

On the bed lay an old satyr. He watched them as they approached, his eyes as blue as the sky. His curly hair was white and so was his pointed beard. Even the goat fur on his legs was frosted with gray. His horns were enormous—glossy brown and curved. There was no way he could've hidden those under a hat the way Grover did. Around his neck hung a set of reed pipes.

Grover fell to his knees in front of the bed. "Lord Pan!"

The god smiled kindly, but there was sadness in his eyes. "Grover, my dear, brave satyr. I have waited a very long time for you."

"I... got lost," Grover apologized.

Pan laughed. It was a wonderful sound, like the first breeze of springtime, filling the whole cavern with hope.

The tiger-wolf sighed and rested his head on the god's knee. The dodo bird pecked affectionately at the god's hooves, making a strange sound in the back of its bill. Percy could swear it was humming "It's a Small World."

Still, Pan looked tired. His whole form shimmered as if he were made of Mist.

Percy noticed his other friends were kneeling. They had awed looks on their faces. Percy got to his knees.

"You have a humming dodo bird," Percy said stupidly.

The god's eyes twinkled. "Yes, that's Dede. My little actress."

Dede the dodo looked offended. She pecked at Pan's knee and hummed something that sounded like a funeral dirge.

"This is—Wow—The most—beautiful place I have... ever seen," Sylvie gawked, so awed she struggled to get the words out."

"It's better than any building ever designed!" Annabeth said.

"I'm glad you like it, dears," Pan said. "It is one of the last wild places. My realm above is gone, I'm afraid. Only pockets remain. Tiny pieces of life. This one shall stay undisturbed... for a little longer."

"My lord," Grover said, "please, you must come back with me! The Elders will never believe it! They'll be overjoyed! You can save the wild!"

Pan placed his hand on Grover's head and ruffled his curly hair. "You are so young, Grover. So good and true. I think I chose well."

"Chose?" Grover said. "I—I don't understand."

Pan's image flickered, momentarily turning to smoke. The giant guinea pig scuttled under the bed with a terrified squeal. The wooly mammoth grunted nervously. Dede stuck her head under her wing. Then Pan re-formed.

"I have slept many eons," the god said forlornly. "My dreams have been dark. I wake fitfully, and each time my waking is shorter. Now we are near the end."

"What?" Grover cried. "But no! You're right here!"

"My dear satyr," Pan said. "I tried to tell the world, two thousand years ago. I announced it to Lysas, a satyr very much like you. He lived in Ephesos, and he tried to spread the word."

Annabeth's eyes widened. "The old story. A sailor passing by the coast of Ephesos heard a voice crying from the shore, 'Tell them the great god Pan is dead.'"

"But that wasn't true!" Grover said.

"Your kind never believed it," Pan said. "You sweet, stubborn satyrs refused to accept my passing. And I love you for that, but you only delayed the inevitable. You only prolonged my long, painful passing, my dark twilight sleep. It must end."

"No!" Grover's voice trembled.

"Dear Grover," Pan said. "You must accept the truth. Your companion, Nico, he understands."

Nico nodded slowly. "He's dying. He should have died long ago. This... this is more like a memory."

"But gods can't die," Grover said.

"They can fade," Pan said, "when everything they stood for is gone. When they cease to have power, and their sacred places disappear. The wild, my dear Grover, is so small now, so shattered, that no god can save it. My realm is gone. That is why I need you to carry a message. You must go back to the council. You must tell the satyrs, and the dryads, and the other spirits of nature, that the great god Pan is dead. Tell them of my passing. Because they must stop waiting for me to save them. I cannot. The only salvation you must make yourself. Each of you must—"

He stopped and frowned at the dodo bird, who had started humming again.

"Dede, what are you doing?" Pan demanded. "Are you singing 'Kumbaya' again?"

Dede looked up innocently and blinked her yellow eyes.

Pan sighed. "Everybody's a cynic. But as I was saying, my dear Grover, each of you must take up my calling."

"But... no!" Grover whimpered.

"Be strong," Pan said. "You have found me. And now you must release me. You must carry on my spirit. It can no longer be carried by a god. It must be taken up by all of you."

Pan looked straight at Percy with his clear blue eyes, and Percy realized he wasn't just talking about the satyrs. He meant half-bloods, too, and humans. Everyone.

"Percy Jackson," the god said. "I know what you have seen today. I know your doubts. But I give you this news: when the time comes, you will not be ruled by fear."

He turned to Annabeth. "Daughter of Athena, your time is coming. You will play a great role, though it may not be the role you imagined."

Then he looked at Sylvie with, "Daughter of Demeter, the suffering you endured today will be important to remember in the near future. When the moment arrives, look back on this hurt. Let it make you stronger, let you make the right choice."

"Master Cyclops," he told Tyson, "do not despair. Heroes rarely live up to our expectations. But you, Tyson—your name shall live among the Cyclopes for generations. And Miss Rachel Dare..."

Rachel flinched when he said her name. She backed up like she was guilty of something, but Pan only smiled. He raised his hand in a blessing.

"I know you believe you cannot make amends," he said. "But you are just as important as your father."

"I—" Rachel faltered. A tear traced her cheek.

"I know you don't believe this now," Pan said. "But look for opportunities. They will come."

Finally he turned back toward Grover. "My dear satyr," Pan said kindly, "will you carry my message?"

"I—I can't."

"You can," Pan said. "You are the strongest and bravest. Your heart is true. You have believed in me more than anyone ever has, which is why you must bring the message, and why you must be the first to release me."

"I don't want to."

"I know," the god said. "But my name, Pan... originally it meant rustic. Did you know that? But over the years it has come to mean all. The spirit of the wild must pass to all of you now. You must tell each one you meet: if you would find Pan, take up Pan's spirit. Remake the wild, a little at a time, each in your own corner of the world. You cannot wait for anyone else, even a god, to do that for you."

Grover wiped his eyes. Then slowly he stood. "I've spent my whole life looking for you. Now... I release you."

Pan smiled. "Thank you, dear satyr. My final blessing."

He closed his eyes, and the god dissolved. White mist divided into wisps of energy, but this kind of energy wasn't scary like the blue power Percy had seen from Kronos. It filled the room. A curl of smoke went straight into his mouth, and Grover's, and the others. But Percy thought a little more of it went into Grover. The crystals dimmed. The animals gave them a sad look. Dede the dodo sighed. Then they all turned gray and crumbled to dust. The vines withered. And they were alone in a dark cave, with an empty bed.

Percy switched on his flashlight.

Grover took a deep breath.

"Are... Are you okay?" Sylvie asked him.

He looked older and sadder. He took his cap from Percy, brushed off the mud, and stuck it firmly on his curly head.

"We should go now," he said, "and tell them. The great god Pan is dead."

╰━━━ ◦ ❀ ◦ ❀◦ ━━━╯

BAILEY YAPS...

Chapter title is a lie this is My insanity arc

Fellas wyd when I give you Percy's POV and it ends up being this like. Persylv you were crazy for this. Lives were changed. I need a million years to think about this maybe

Dare I say my personal favorite chapter so far. Sorry Sylvie I know you were stabbed and dying

Join Eurydice hate club here

Also Pan was there too which was cool I guess and he definitely wasn't foreshadowing anything at all for Sylvie

Percy fell harder trope save me. Save me Percy fell harder trope