The Battle of the Labyrinth pjato-4

by Rick Riordan

  “I am glad you like it, dear,” 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 me with his clear blue eyes, and I realized he wasn’t just talking about 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 Tyson. “Master Cyclops, 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 the 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 I’d seen from Kronos. It filled the room. A curl of smoke went straight into my mouth, and Grover’s and the others. But I think a little more of it went into Grover. The crystals dimmed. The animals gave us a sad look. Dede the dodo sighed. Then they all turned gray and crumbled to dust. The vines withered. And we were alone in a dark cave, with an empty bed. I switched on my flashlight.

  Grover took a deep breath.

  “Are…are you okay?” I asked him.

  He looked older and sadder. He took his cap from Annabeth, 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.”

  EIGHTEEN

  GROVER CAUSES A STAMPEDE

  Distance was shorter in the Labyrinth. Still, by the time Rachel got us back to Times Square, I felt like we’d pretty much run all the way from New Mexico. We climbed out of the Marriott basement and stood on the sidewalk in the bright summer daylight, squinting at the traffic and crowds. I couldn’t decide which seemed less real—New York or the crystal cave where I’d watched a god die.

  I led the way into an alley, where I could get a nice echo. Then I whistled as loud as I could, five times.

  A minute later, Rachel gasped. “They’re beautiful!”

  A flock of pegasi descended from the sky, swooping between the skyscrapers. Blackjack was in the lead, followed by four of his white friends. Yo, boss! He spoke in my mind. You lived!

  “Yeah,” I told him. “I’m lucky that way. Listen, we need a ride to camp quick.”

  That’s my specialty! Oh man, you got that Cyclops with you? Yo, Guido!

  How’s your back holding up?

  The Pegasus Guido groaned and complained, but eventually he agreed to carry Tyson. Everybody started saddling up—except Rachel.

  “Well,” she told me, “I guess this is it.”

  I nodded uncomfortably. We both knew she couldn’t go to camp. I glanced at Annabeth, who was pretending to be very busy with her Pegasus.

  “Thanks, Rachel,” I said. “We couldn’t have done it without you.”

  “I wouldn’t have missed it. I mean, except for almost dying, and Pan…”

  Her voice faltered.

  “He said something about your father,” I remembered. “What did he mean?”

  Rachel twisted the strap on her backpack. “My dad…My dad’s job. He’s kind of a famous businessman.”

  “You mean…you’re rich?”

  “Well, yeah.”

  “So that’s how you got the chauffeur to help us? You just said your dad’s name and—”

  “Yes,” Rachel cut me off. “Percy…my dad
’s a land developer. He flies all over the world, looking for tracts of undeveloped land.” She took a shaky breath. “The wild. He—he buys it up. I hate it, but he plows it down and builds ugly subdivisions and shopping centers. And now that I’ve seen Pan…Pan’s death—”

  “Hey, you can’t blame yourself for that.”

  “You don’t know the worst of it. I—I don’t like to talk about my family. I didn’t want you to know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “No,” I said. “It’s cool. Look, Rachel, you did awesome. You led us through the maze. You were so brave. That’s the only thing I’m going to judge you on. I don’t care what your dad does.”

  Rachel looked at me gratefully. “Well…if you ever feel like hanging out with a mortal again…you could call me or something.”

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

  She knit her eyebrows. I guess I sounded unenthusiastic or something, but that’s not how I meant it. I just wasn’t sure what to say with all my friends standing around. And I guess my feelings had gotten pretty missed up the last couple of days.

  “I mean…I’d like that,” I said.

  “My number’s not in the book,” she said.

  “I’ve got it.”

  “Still on your hand? No way.”

  “No. I kinda…memorized it.”

  Her smile came back slowly, but a lot happier. “See you later, Percy Jackson. Go save the world for me, okay?”

  She walked off down Seventh Avenue and disappeared into the crowds.

  * * *

  When I got back to the horses. Nico was having trouble. His Pegasus kept shying away from him, reluctant to let him mount.

  He smells like dead people! The Pegasus complained. Hey now, Blackjack said. Come on, Porkpie. Lotsa demigods smell weird. It ain’t their fault. Oh—uh, I didn’t mean you, boss.

  “Go without me!” Nico said. “I don’t want to go back to that camp anyway.”

  “Nico,” I said, “we need your help.”

  He folded his arms and scowled. Then Annabeth put her hand on his shoulder.

  “Nico,” she said. “Please.”

  Slowly, his expression softened. “All right,” he said reluctantly. “For you. but I’m not staying.”

  I raised an eyebrow at Annabeth, like, How come all of a sudden Nico listens to you? She stuck her tongue out at me.

  At last we got everybody on a Pegasus. We shot into the air, and soon we were over the East river with Long Island spread out before us.

  * * *

  We landed in the middle of the cabin area and were immediately met by Chiron, the potbellied satyr Silenus, and a couple of Apollo cabin archers. Chiron raised an eyebrow when he saw Nico, but if I expected him to be surprised by our latest news about Quintus being Daedalus, or Kronos rising, I was mistaken.

  “I feared as much,” Chiron said. “We must hurry. Hopefully you have slowed down the Titan lord, but his vanguard will still be coming through. They will be anxious for blood. Most of our defenders are already in place. Come!”

  “Wait a moment,” Silenus demanded. “What of the search for Pan? You are almost three weeks overdue, Grover Underwood! Your searcher’s license is revoked!”

  Grover took a deep breath. He stood up straight and looked Silenus in the eye. “Searcher’s licenses don’t matter any more. The great god Pan is dead. He has passed on and left us his spirit.”

  “What?” Silenus’s face turned bright red. “Sacrilege and lies! Grover Underwood, I will have you exiled for speaking thus!”

  “It’s true,” I said. “We were there when he died. All of us.”

  “Impossible! You are all liars! Nature-destroyers!”

  Chiron studied Grover’s face. “We will speak of this later.”

  “We will speak of it now!” Silenus said. “We must deal with this—”

  “Silenus,” Chiron cut in. “My camp is under attack. The matter of Pan has waited two thousand years. I fear it will have to wait a bit longer. Assuming we are still here this evening.”

  And on that happy note, he readied his bow and galloped toward the woods, leaving us to follow as best we could.

  * * *

  It was the biggest military operation I’d ever seen at camp. Everyone was at the clearing, dressed in full battle armor, but this time it wasn’t for capture the flag. The Hephaestus cabin had set up traps around the entrance to the Labyrinth—razor wire, pits filled with pots of Greek fire, rows of sharpened sticks to deflect a charge. Beckendorf was manning two catapults the size of pickup trucks, already primed and aimed at Zeus’s Fist. The Ares cabin was on the front line, drilling in phalanx formation with Clarisse calling orders. Apollo’s and Hermes’s cabins were scattered in the woods with bows ready. Many had taken up positions in the trees. Even the dryads were armed with bows, and the satyrs trotted around with wooden cudgels and shields made of rough tree bark.

  Annabeth went to join her brethren from the Athena cabin, who had set up a command tent and were directing operations. A gray banner with an owl fluttered outside the tent. Our security chief, Argus, stood guard at the door. Aphrodite’s children were running around straightening everybody’s armor and offering to comb the tangles out of our horsehair plumes. Even Dionysus’s kids had found something to do. The god himself was still nowhere to be seen, but his two blond twin sons were running around providing all the sweaty warriors with water bottles and juice boxes. It looked like a pretty good setup, but Chiron muttered next to me. “It isn’t enough.”

  I thought about what I’d seen in the Labyrinth, all the monsters in Antaeus’s stadium, and the power of Kronos I’d felt of Mt. Tam. My heart sank. Chiron was right, but it was all we could muster. For once I wished Dionysus was here, but even if he had been, I didn’t know if he could do anything. When it came to war, gods were forbidden to interfere directly. Apparently, the Titans didn’t believe in restrictions like that. Over at the edge of the clearing, Grover was talking to Juniper. She held his hands while he told her our story. Green tears formed in her eyes as he delivered the news about Pan.

  Tyson helped the Hephaestus kids prepare the defenses. He picked up boulders and piled them next to the catapults for firing.

  “Stay with me, Percy,” Chiron said. “When the fighting begins, I want you to wait until we know what we’re dealing with. You must go where we most need reinforcements.”

  “I saw Kronos,” I said, still stunned by the fact. “I looked straight into his eyes. It was Luke…but it wasn’t.”

  Chiron ran his fingers along his bowstring. “He had golden eyes, I would guess. And in his presence, time seemed to turn to liquid.”

  I nodded. “How could he take over a mortal body?”

  “I do not know, Percy. Gods have assumed the shapes of mortals for ages, but to actually become one…to merge the divine form with the mortal. I don’t know how this could be done without Luke’s form turning into ashes.”

  “Kronos said his body had been prepared.”

  “I shudder to think what that means. But perhaps it will limit Kronos’s power. For a time, at least, he is confined to a human form. It binds him together. Hopefully it also restricts him.”

  “Chiron, if he leads the attack—”

  “I do not think so, my boy. I would sense if he were drawing near. No doubt he planned to, but I believe you inconvenienced him when you pulled down his throne room on top of him.” He looked at me reproachfully. “You and your friend Nico, son of Hades.”

  A lump formed in my throat. “I’m sorry, Chiron. I know I should’ve told you. It’s just—”

  Chiron raised his hand. “I understand why you did it, Percy. You felt responsible. You sought to protect him. But, my boy, if we are to survive this war, we must trust each other. We must…”

  His voice wavered. The ground underneath us was trembling. Everyone in the clearing stopped what they were doing. Clarisse barked a single order: “Lock shields!”

  Then the Titan lord’s army exploded from
the Labyrinth.

  * * *

  I mean I’d been in fights before, but this was a full-scale battle. The first thing I saw were a dozen Laistrygonian giants erupting from the ground, yelling so loudly my ears felt like bursting. They carried shields made from flattened cars, and clubs that were tree trunks with rusty spikes bristling at the end. One of the giants bellowed at the Ares phalanx, smashed it sideways with his club, and the entire cabin was thrown aside, a dozen warriors tossed to the wind like rag dolls.

  “Fire!” Beckendorf yelled. The catapults swung into action. Two boulders hurtled toward the giants. One deflected off a car shield with hardly a dent, but the other caught a Laistrygonian in the chest, and the giant went down. Apollo’s archers fired a volley, dozens of arrows sticking in the thick armor of the giants like porcupine quills. Several found chinks in armor, and some of the giants vaporized at the touch of celestial bronze. But just when it looked like the Laistrygonians were about to get overwhelmed, the next wave surged out of the maze: thirty, maybe forty dracaenae in full battle armor, wielding spears and nets. They dispersed in all directions. Some hit the traps the Hephaestus cabin had laid. One got struck on the spikes and became an easy target for archers. Another triggered a trip wire, and pots of Greek fire exploded into green flames, engulfing several of the snake women. But many more kept coming. Argus and Athena’s warriors rushed forward to meet them. I saw Annabeth draw a sword and engage one of them. Nearby, Tyson was riding a giant. Somehow he’d managed to climb onto the giant’s back and was hitting him on the head with a bronze shield— BONG! BONG! BONG!

  Chiron calmly aimed arrow after arrow, taking down a monster with every shot. But more enemies just kept climbing out of the maze. Finally a hellhound—not Mrs. O’Leary—leaped out of the tunnel and barreled straight toward the satyrs.

  “GO!” Chiron yelled at me.

  I drew Riptide and charged.

  As I raced across the battlefield, I saw horrible things. An enemy halfblood was fighting with a son of Dionysus, but it wasn’t much of a contest. The enemy stabbed him in the arm then clubbed him over the head with the butt of his sword, and Dionysus’s son went down. Another enemy warrior shot flaming arrows into the trees, sending our archers and dryads into a panic.