AN: Update on what's been going on with me at the bottom.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Half-bloods in Labyrinth-land and What They Found There

After some further discussion, it was decided that there was no time to waste — the quest-goers had to leave by morning at the latest. The prophecy had mentioned 'the fifth' going from day to night, so that could presumably mean the fifth of the coming month — February. To get in as close to a full five days as they could, they'd be off before dawn.

Clarisse's question of whether it was she that was the one who the prophecy was referring to as 'Ares' daughter' spurred discussion on who exactly of the camp would go. It took significant coaxing on Chiron's part to get Clarisse to agree to go — the first venture through had not been kind to her — but she was eventually persuaded. Apparently, both Heri and d'Albion came from lines of human sorcerers (or something) that were all naturally Clear-Sighted, and so that meant that the primary danger of the Labyrinth would be circumvented; with this fact, Clarisse conceded.

Since d'Albion was technically the leader of the quest, it should have been up to him to choose. However, considering he knew none of them other than Heri — and Heri wasn't being counted among the six(!) of Camp Half-Blood that were meant to go — that meant he'd have to go off volunteers.

Which meant the quest was announced at dinner.

Chiron summed up the situation for those who hadn't qualified for the counselors' meeting. The news that the Heri that they knew was but a consciousness in a vessel shocked as much as it had during the meeting. And the fact that there wasn't a draft for the quest but an opportunity to self-elect got as much chatter as one would expect.

Silena was . . . she was tempted, honestly. It had been a while since she's been on a quest; it wasn't something her mother cared for her children to do, and it wasn't like any child of Aphrodite enjoyed hands-on, sweaty work like quests usually were. Not to mention that the goals were usually things she didn't care about or things she didn't think she'd be of any help with. But with this one, it was more than the old fetch quests from before the Great Prophecy came into play, and it wasn't the one of the deathly-serious, high-stakes quests for the war-prep.

Like, sure, this business sounded serious as well, but it didn't sound too life-or-death. And with a total of six of them going? Along with whoever they were that were the 'vassals'? That was a lot of backup. The logic of prophecies dictated that since six were explicitly numbered, then six would absolutely be necessary, but Silena just couldn't imagine that things would get too dangerous. That d'Albion guy could summon his own lightning bolts; if that was something to scoff at, Lord Zeus wouldn't be king of Olympus. He had the combat part down all by himself, as far as Silena figured. So, if Silena went along, it would be unlikely that she would incidentally take the place of someone whose skill with a weapon would make a significant difference.

And it wasn't like she was useless or anything. Even though she wasn't naturally combat-oriented, she had trained with weapons for years — you didn't attend Camp Half-Blood without getting trained in sword-work at the very least. More importantly, she liked to think she was pretty handy when it came to manipulating the Mist and casting some minor spells through it. Nothing too flashy, of course, she wasn't a child of Hecate after all, but it was useful enough stuff that wouldn't get the cops called on them either — important since stealth was often necessary.

And it wasn't like there was an enemy out specifically to try and stop them, right? It was a search and rescue. Like, yeah, there was probably a bad guy they'd have to go up against if the missing people were legitimately kidnapped, but surely there wouldn't be, like, agents of Kronos involved. They were busy with their own war-prep, after all. So it wasn't likely this was a quest that was expected to see a lot of monster fighting, if any at all.

Silena wanted to figure out what the deal with Heri was — why the Olympians had such high estimations of her, why the high-profile double-defectors were so docile in front of her. Silena had wanted to know the specifics for weeks now. It had grown from a simple curiosity to a burning need to know.

The other girl just felt so . . . domestic; she simply did not give off the vibes of someone acclaimed for combat-prowess. Sure, she was physically strong beyond words (though Silena didn't know if that was inborn or due to having an automaton body), but her vibes were closer to a child of Demeter than anything else, even though she apparently had no interest in growing things.

The list of things Silena wanted to know so badly kept expanding. She had thought her head might actually explode when Chiron had explained what 'Twice-Blessed' means. Two divine parents! Or, uh, one and at least an adopted one. But still — two! And Heri was still unclaimed! How could two different gods come to make a half-blood, and yet neither sent any sign of who they were? It wasn't like it was possible that Heri hadn't yet proven herself worthy of a claim — after all, the Council of Twelve almost unanimously thought well of her. Even if her parents were both minor gods, they'd want the bragging rights, right?

None of it was adding up. Silena was adding and multiplying the facts she knew, and it was coming up to barely a hint of a reasonable answer — it was like she was adding 2 plus 2, but instead of getting 4, she was getting pi times √fish plus n, x, and y that she still had to solve for. It all was looking far deeper and going in a way different direction than what Silena had been half-expecting, but her curiosity had only grown rather than died down.

And so when Chiron called for those who among them were willing to lend their assistance, Silena was the first to stand. She got bewildered looks from her siblings and others, but she was ready to see this through.

Silena saw that Charlie looked ready to volunteer as well, but he paused, met eyes with her cautiously, and then grudgingly settled back down. She knew him well — he wanted to go along as well to make sure she stayed safe, but the children of Hephaestus were greatly needed in-camp to man the forges at this time. The camp couldn't afford to have their best blacksmith away any more than what was absolutely necessary. If his presence specifically wasn't required, he was best staying.

"I'll go, too!" said Michael, Silena's best friend, jumping to his feet when he noticed that Charlie had elected to remain behind. He straightened proudly to his under-5-feet height. "Having a healer never hurts, right?"

"I'm going, of course," said Alabaster, standing hastily, nearly elbowing the youngest child of Hecate.

"And me!" was exclaimed in discordant tandem from multiple voices of others from Cabin Null. Quick math made it clear there were more volunteers there than there were spots still available, and so testy looks were exchanged among them.

"No one still primary-school age," Heri admonished them from where she stood between Chiron and d'Albion at the head of the dining pavilion. This made even more protests ring out.

"Nico went out with you and Percy on that last quest!" complained the oldest of the little boys Heri brought back with her from storming the Princess Andromeda, Abel. "And he's only just turned twelve this week!"

"Elementary is from six-seven years old to twelve-thirteen years old here," Chiron explained when Heri looked confused.

"Oh." She tapped her lip with a finger. " Well, then . . . no younger than eleven, then."

The oldest of Cabin Null's little girls — Amalia — lifted a celebratory fist in the air with a smirk, while Abel groaned and deflated.

"You don't mean to take any grade schoolers either way, do you?" asked one of the former rogues, a tall Asian boy with claw scars along his jaw. Silena thought his name was Jack or maybe Jason. "None of them have had more than a month of training, never mind that they're small and easily overpowered!"

"Not to disagree with you," said d'Albion with a calm smile, "but Heri single-handedly took down a thousand-year-old basilisk big enough to swallow a horse whole when we were twelve, and She was still smaller than that little blonde girl." He pointed at Amalia.

Silena would admit that her jaw slackened, even if her mouth didn't fall open. They all knew monsters, Silena herself having fought some in her tim. However, the scariest monster encounter outside of a quest that she'd ever heard of was Percy's against the Minotaur. She didn't know exactly how a basilisk would measure up intellect-wise to a monster with human-level intelligence like the Minotaur, but one the size that d'Albion was claiming was beyond the scope of the mental image she had of a basilisk. After all, the Basilisk of Cyrene that Pliny the Elder famously wrote about was supposed to be no longer than twelve inches.

"No shit?!" exclaimed Clarisse, wide-eyed and leaning forward. The start of a bloodthirsty smile twitched her lips upward and out of the sullen scowl she'd been wearing since the meeting.

"And I would have died if it hadn't been for the headmaster's phoenix crying on me," said Heri, prodding d'Albion in the side. "Don't brag about me! Especially if you're going to make it sound more than it was!"

"The point stands," insisted d'Albion. "Just because You were healed up after it bit You doesn't mean You didn't take it down with just a sword in single-combat."

"Was that gigantic serpent fang and venom sac from you, then?" Mr. D interjected, lowering his goblet from his mouth. He looked grudgingly impressed. "They showed up on top of the other general offerings that day. And acid-melted everything they touched. Ares and the old man thought we were under attack."

"Ah, yes . . . that was me," replied Heri, scratching her cheek. "I had only met the centaurs who'd train me just a few days before, so it was my first sacrifice. Sorry for any inconvenience my inexperience caused."

D'Albion continued before anything else could be added, "My point here is that while I don't specifically want young children coming along, I can't imagine we'll go up against anything worse than Slytherin's basilisk. And even if we do, we already have six— seven? — grown-enough people already confirmed to be going. And we'll supposedly find the missing retinue as we go, so that's even more adults capable of giving assistance. If my Lady wants to bring along some younger demigods, I see no harm in it."

"This is your quest to lead," said Heri. "By all rights, you're the one who should be deciding."

"If it were up to me, we would take along just the young lady who can guide us through the maze thing we're meant to go through. But I'm assuming that's not an option."

"Should the Oracle of Delphi specify how many quest-goers there must be, it would only lead to disaster if you bring more or less," said Chiron.

"Then whoever else wants to come can decide amongst themselves," said d'Albion with a wave of his hand. "They know themselves and each other better than I do."

"Are you guys even allowed to leave camp at this point?" asked Nico, looking skeptically over the older Cabin Null members. "Aren't you on parole or something?"

"We're on 'parole' as you said under the supervision of Heri," retorted Lainey, a child of Apollo and among the number that had defected with Luke. She used to be known to be as beautiful as a child of Aphrodite, but in the time between then and her return, she'd lost the use of her right eye; it was entirely clouded over, and the flesh on that entire side was marred by burn scars all the way down to her shoulder. "Since she's taking Luke, there's no reason any of us can't go, too."

"Hermes' rabid brat is going because he's a chained dog and the girl is his muzzle and the metal stake in the ground pinning him down," said Mr. D with a snort. "If you think we're going to allow a bunch of half-bloods proven to be traitorous to go running around freely and potentially defecting yet again, you're more empty-headed than even your father. That son of Hecate's already going; that's more than enough potential flight-risks necessary."

There were sounds of discontent from those on 'parole,' but Silena couldn't find it in herself to be sympathetic. After all, what Mr. D said made sense — the returned defectors weren't trusted to not double-cross again yet, so why would they be allowed out on a quest? Luke was under threat of being smote on the spot if he tried to escape Heri, but the others were only allowed back because they hadn't actually committed any war crimes yet and because any loss in numbers to Kronos' forces was desirable. Hell, she was pretty sure Alabaster was only being allowed to go because he was as fixated on Heri as Luke was.

"I'm grateful that you guys want to help, but because a number of you are still under probation, I'll be relying on those of you who aren't to take care of things while I'm away," said Heri, smoothing down ruffled feathers. "Jacob, I'll be relying on you and Anita especially to mind the little ones. You know they barely listen to anyone else, and what kind of messes they get up to when no one's reining them in."

The guy who was apparently not Jack or Jason but instead Jacob grimaced, but he and the girl sitting next to him (who had jagged scars up and down her arms that stood out starkly against her dark brown skin) nodded slowly, frowning at the table.

After a few more words, it was decided that Nico would be going as well, and Amalia, too. After all, those two really wanted to go, and it wasn't like there were many other options left — winter always had the least amount of half-bloods in Camp. There were only a sprinkling of others throughout the cabins, and really, it was already stretching things tight that Silena, Michael, and Clarisse would be away considering they needed as many people on hand at any given time as possible in case of surprise invasions or whatever.

That was likely another reason the former rogues weren't being allowed to go — to keep an eye on them, and to keep the camp inhabited with competent half-bloods. Meanwhile, Nico and Amalia, though young comparatively, were already at the age where they would have gone on regular quests had this not been wartimes. It really was best for everyone all around that they made up the numbers for the questing group.

The time of departure didn't come bright and early in the morning but dark and closer to 'late at night.' Silena dragged herself from bed at 3 AM, washed up, and donned her gear. The weight of her backpack was heavier than she'd gotten used to — it was filled with a bedroll, extra clothes, a jumbo pack of wet wipes, dry shampoo, a ziplock of ambrosia, a couple thermos of nectar, a length of rope, a box of granola bars, a flashlight, and as many batteries she could stuff into every crevice of remaining space. On her hip was a sword she'd picked out from the armory the night before, and on her wrist was a bangle that Charlie had made for her that would turn into a shield of Celestial Bronze.

She then crept out of Cabin Ten and met the others at the steps of the dining pavilion.

The early-early morning sky was as dark as one would expect. The moon was visible, but it lent no light. Silena had to turn on her flashlight immediately just to make sure she didn't trip over anything as she walked.

On the top step was Michael, looking utterly miserable at being required to be awake this early. As a child of Apollo, he rose with the sun, but never willingly before it. He looked like he was heavily tempted to lean against Clarisse's sturdy shoulder to get even a few more seconds of shut-eye, but their mutual hostility prevailed. Silena had been getting along better with the other girl since Clarisse had recovered Chris Rodriguez in the Labyrinth and Silena started helping her with her growing crush on the boy after Mr. D had cured him of the insanity the Labyrinth inflicted on him, but that ease in tensions hadn't extended to Michael in the least bit.

Alabaster and Nico weren't doing much better with their exhaustion, rubbing their eyes and shaking their heads every few seconds. They were slumped against each other as they sat at one of the benches of Cabin Null's table despite looking like they were trying to sit upright. In contrast, Amalia seemed alright, though it was hard to tell through facial expressions alone, since she wore her usual half-scowl. She was stretching her limbs against a pillar and looking decently awake, but she yawned painfully every few seconds.

D'Albion was a few paces away, either wearing the same outfit that he'd worn the day before or a uniform he'd pulled out of somewhere. He was looking back at the tent of Cabin Null with his brows furrowed. Coming out from said tent were the rest of the group — Luke, little Ollie, and then Heri. Bringing up the rear and then stopping in front of the opening, Heri was giving instructions to someone inside — Silena couldn't see exactly who it was because of how dark out it still was.

" —n't let Elena go up the climbing wall by herself, no matter what she says — she's terrified of heights but refuses to admit it. She'll stop halfway and refuse to go any further or climb back down. Try to keep some crackers on hand for Abel for when he's too hungry to stick to his fasting. I keep the cabinet behind the sofa stocked with them. Adam should be little trouble as long as you keep him from playing too much with those Mistform cards Allie gifted him. Go to Lou Ellen from Hermes' cabin for damage control, if necessary; she's another child of Hecate and good at spell reversal. Also, do not let Mimi gorge herself on snacks and sweets! She hasn't been casting illusions over her food recently, but heaven knows she'll try to push her luck if she thinks she can get away with it."

Heri low-spoken words carried across the distance in the silence of the courtyard. Her tone was of a nervous mother leaving her children with a babysitter for the first time.

"There are extra medicinal potions in the drawers in the washroom if needed. Do not take more than one of a type at a time. I had the mundane First Aid supplies restocked as well, so don't worry about needing to go to the camp store, nor about saving them for an emergency—"

"Okay, Heri," the other person said, heading off anything else she might have wanted to say. A restrained yawn punctuated their words. "I promise we won't burn the tent down while you're away. And we won't let each other get maimed."

"Oh, I know," Heri replied in a fretting tone. "It's just it's the first time since we brought them back that I've been away for more than half a day, and what about you older ones? What if you get bullied?"

Silena tried to imagine anyone trying to bully a Cabin Null half-blood. And after that, she tried to imagine anyone other than a child Ares attempting to do so. She just couldn't picture it — Cabin Null half-bloods (other than the little kids) were formidable, on top of being not completely trusted yet. They got pointed distance and some muttered snide remarks behind their backs, but not even Michael wanted to poke that landmine.

"My Lady, from what You've told me, they can handily handle things worse than some bullying," said d'Albion, sidling up next to Heri and patting her shoulder. "And they took care of themselves before, didn't they?"

Coaxed, Heri let the sleepy half-blood go.

Chiron arrived as well then to wish them well and see them off, but it was too early for it to feel like a happy send-off despite his best efforts as he escorted them.

The Labyrinth entrance had been under guard since Clarisse had returned, but even though those appointed to duty worked in shifts, the poor schmucks who had the midnight-dawn shift were fighting for their lives against their heavy eyelids; they certainly didn't have the energy to send off the questing group with honors. They sat on a pair of the smaller boulders in front of a couple of tents that had been set up by the rocks of Zeus' Fist. They would get their due rest by the time Charlie and other children of Hephaestus would come to work on the line of defensive spikes and trenches, but until then, the pair on watch were as sullen with sleepiness as everyone else that had to be awake just then.

The entrance was a crack between two boulders that was just big enough for a grown man to slide through. Hesitant glances were exchanged all around at how not-inviting it was.

"Well . . ." Heri said slowly when no one got any closer to the entrance. "Erm, is everyone ready? Supplies are all double-checked? Nothing important left behind?"

Subdued nods went around.

"I sent Ollie out to the apothecary after dinner for a set of Wideye," said d'Albion, reaching into his coat. From an inner pocket, he pulled out a little bottle that was straight out of a fantasy movie. He gave it a little shake, making the turquoise liquid within slosh. "Enough for everyone and some to spare. Figured the early hour called for it."

"Oh— oh, you shouldn't have, Neville!" Heri exclaimed, minding to keep her tone low. "I mean, thank you, of course, but if an instant-awake is necessary, just a sniff of my inhalant will do it."

"Gracious of You, my Lady, but I took a whiff of Your inhalant once when we were reviewing for our NEWT exams. And while it smelled nice, I couldn't sleep for half a week after."

"What's Wideye?" Nico asked what Silena wanted to know as well.

"A potion of wakefulness," answered d'Albion, handing Nico the small bottle. "Also useful for reviving unconscious people. I typically prefer tea for my morning wake-up myself, but caffeine would take too long to work for this situation, so. . . ." He shrugged, a casual gesture that didn't fit his . . . his everything.

Michael stepped closer with a keen look in his half-mast eyes. His interests were primarily music and archery, but there was no child of Apollo that had zero interest in medicinal concoctions.

"Is it safe?" he asked.

"Well, it's sold without restrictions," replied d'Albion. "As long as no one here's allergic to dentin, Billywigs, Wolfsbane, or anti-clockwise turns, it should be fine."

D'Albion pulled more and more bottles from his inner pocket that really shouldn't have been able to contain so many things. He handed one to everyone except Heri, who was as chipper as always.

Was that another quirk of having an automaton body? Or was it the inhalant that was said to be able to keep a normal person awake for half a week?

Silena took the bottle given to her and admired the jewel-like color for a moment. Then — after seeing d'Albion knock it back and swallow it down in one gulp — she uncorked it and tentatively drank. She'd been half-expecting Blue Raspberry flavor from the color, but it actually wasn't sweet at all. The taste was actually like peppermint and ginger, and some third pungent herb she couldn't name. It was more smell than flavor, really.

Her entire body felt like it was lit up from within, and cold air seemed to seep from every pore.

"Hey, this stuff really works!" Michael exclaimed, more bright-eyed and bushy-tailed than Silena had ever seen him at any age. "What's in this thing?"

"Wolfbane, as I said before, but I don't think you'd be familiar with the rests of the ingredients. It's a simple enough potion, but I don't think you'll be able to pick up potion starter or Billywig parts in a mundane market," said d'Albion. "Assuming you're asking because you want to try your hand at brewing some yourself. I dunno if semidieous people who aren't innately magical via their humanity can brew potions of our sort, though."

"I've been told all demigods can learn to manipulate the Mist, though," said Heri. "And that's magic-manipulation, isn't it?"

"Well . . . even Squibs can manipulate a schema provided they know where the strands are to pull. Sorcery isn't exclusive to wizards, after all. But this is more witchcraft than anything else."

"Ah, that's true. . . ." Heri tilted her head. She turned to Michael and smiled. "If you'd like, when we have time later, we can find you a simple potion to try. Worst case scenario, it's a dud; best case, it'll turn out you can make potions of our sort!"

With everyone now perfectly awake and peppy and the mood lightened, they descended into the darkness of the Labyrinth.

The cavernous corridors of the Labyrinth were dark and dank, round and more like a sewer than anything else. It was constructed of red brick with iron-barred portholes every three meters. The multiple beams of light from everyone's flashlights danced and skittered over the walls and into the distant darkness.

Nico shone his light through one of the portholes out of curiosity, but nothing could be seen beyond. It simply opened into infinite darkness. There were murmuring sounds like voices on the other side, but it may have been just the cold wind.

They made it approximately thirty meters before they were hopelessly lost. But that was to be expected, according to Clarisse.

"It's constantly changing," said Clarisse grimly. "To even think to yourself that you'd like it to stay the same is to trigger it into changing into something else. So far, we've been lucky, but it's only a matter of time."

True to her words, before their very eyes, the corridor they were traversing morphed before their very eyes. What had been a long and narrow passage with only one turn became a circular room with multiple doors to choose from.

Alabaster, who'd been half leaning against the left wall as they walked, stumbled and nearly fell when said wall disappeared as the space reshaped itself.

"Which way do we go, then?" asked Michael, moving over to the nearest door and peering cautiously down it.

"There's really no point in choosing one over another," said Clarisse. "Picking one specifically will just make it so the one you think is best is actually the worst choice. It's better to just go through whichever one without actually considering it. Thinking too much gives the Labyrinth the power to make whatever you're dreading actually happen."

"So, just . . ." muttered d'Albion. He took Heri's hand and immediately walked to the door directly across from the way they'd come.

The way d'Albion had chosen narrowed almost immediately. The walls turned to gray cement, and the ceiling got so low that pretty soon they were all hunching over, save for Amalia, Heri, and Michael. It was claustrophobic as hell.

"Who was the dumbass that thought it would really suck if things got small and tight?" Clarisse growled through gritted teeth. "You better not let me find out!"

Nico pressed his lips tightly together. That might have been him, but he wasn't sure.

They kept shuffling forward. Nico was considering suggesting they turn around, but when he looked over his shoulder, the way they'd come from was pure darkness despite the fact they should have still been within eye-distance of the room they'd just left.

Just when Nico was starting to fear the tunnel would get so narrow that they would have to start crawling, it opened into a huge room.

Flashlights beams went in every direction once more.

The whole room was covered in mosaic tiles. The pictures were grimy and faded, but colors could still be made out — red, blue, green, gold. The fresco or whatever such a thing was called showed the Olympian gods at a feast. There was a Poseidon with his trident, holding out grapes for a Dionysus to turn into wine. A Zeus was partying with satyrs, and a Hermes was flying through the air on his winged sandals. The pictures were beautiful, but they weren't very accurate. Nico had seen the Council of Twelve, and none of them looked anything like these interpretations. For one, Mr. D was not that handsome, and Lord Hermes' nose wasn't that big.

In the middle of the room was a three-tiered fountain that looked like it hadn't held water in a long time. Nico walked up to it and looked in. Yup, dry as sand and grimy to boot.

"Do we just . . . ?" murmured Silena.

Once again, there were multiple ways to go, but while the other room had eight, this room had only four, including the way they'd just come.

"The ways don't really matter, they don't actually dictate what direction we're moving in or what part of the Labyrinth we wander into," said Clarisse, frowning. "Literally, just—"

She made a sharp outward gesture, highlighting her impatience and unease.

Again and again, they chose paths randomly, until d'Albion barely stopped to choose altogether..

Every few meters, the tunnels twisted and turned and branched off. The floor beneath them changed from cement to mud to bricks and back again. There was no sense to any of it. they stumbled into a wine cellar at one point — a bunch of dusty bottles in wooden racks — like they were walking through somebody's basement, only there was no exit ahead of them, just more tunnels leading on.

At one point, the ceiling turned to wooden planks, and they could hear voices above them and the creaking of footsteps, as if they were walking under some kind of bar. It was a bit reassuring to hear people, it was proof they weren't actually entirely cut off from the outside world. Then again, it wasn't like they could get to those people — not unless they wanted to break through the floor, scare the life out of the normal humans, and land themselves as a headline in the 5 o'clock news. And that was only on the off-chance they could break the ceiling; it was probably reinforced by whatever magic that maintained the Labyrinth to begin with.

Nico had been a bit scared they'd run into something like the manticore again, but that actually didn't happen. At least not yet. Instead, they ran into less-intelligent monsters — canines, felines, reptiles, and types Nico couldn't identify. Maybe it was wrong to call them less intelligent, but none of them could talk as the manticore could, and they didn't seem to have any combat-sense other than attack and attack some more. Though some of them were a lot bigger than regular animals or came in packs, Clarisse alone barely needed backup to handle them.

Indeed it was only for speed's sake that the rest of them got involved, and even then it didn't take much effort. Nico and Amalia didn't actually need to lift a finger beyond making sure they weren't being targeted by a monster looking for an opening to hit a weak spot. It made Nico wonder if it was actually so easy to fight monsters or if the older half-bloods were really so strong. Clarisse and Luke were to be expected, but Silena slashed her sword like she was dancing, Michael shot arrows like he didn't even have to pause to reload, and Alabaster called up destructive spells like he was just ordering food off a menu.

Nico would have thought that maybe this labyrinth wasn't actually as dangerous as everyone had been saying if it hadn't been for all the skeletons they came across as well. Some were obviously past half-bloods that hadn't been as lucky, but there were also remains from those that clearly couldn't have been people who had entered on purpose.

The first obviously mundane human remains they'd found were those of a milkman, and he had clearly not had a quick, clean end.

"At least it's only skeletons that we're finding," said Heri with a reluctant smile as they left the dead milkman behind. "I don't know what I'd do if we came across . . . anything, erm, fresher."

"I'm just glad we haven't lost any of us to the death-total," said Clarisse. "Last time I was down here, I was coming across trapped rooms almost constantly, and those had even more remains in them. Having a Clear-Sighted mortal along really makes a difference."

But despite Clarisse's claim that they weren't actually coming across as many dead as they could have, the amount of death they saw sign of unnerved Nico. Or rather Nico was unnerved by how not uncomfortable he was.

It was weird that he didn't mind them, wasn't it? Silena and Michael grimaced heavily with every one that their group passed, and Ollie had long climbed onto Heri's back to get as far away from the skeletons as she could, quivering against Heri's shoulders. Luke, Clarisse, and Alabaster were stone-faced, but the grimness of their expressions spoke for themselves. As for Heri and d'Albion, they were the most composed, but it was obvious they were saddened with every sign of remains found.

Was there something wrong with Nico's sense of empathy? That wasn't a good thing, was it? Nico tried not to let it get to him, though — after all, Amalia seemed unbothered by the skeletons as well.

"How long have we been in here?" Heri muttered as they crossed into yet another room of passageways. "It feels like hours already."

Ollie pulled a pocket watch from the pocket of her shorts and looked at it very seriously.

"It's a quarter past seven, my lady!" she said.

"Do things like watches even work down here?" wondered Silena. "I would've thought the magic of the atmosphere would interfere."

"This is a very special watch, Miss!" replied Ollie. "My lady won it off of a cyclops she defeated when she was little, and it's magic, too! So it won't be made wonky like a Muggle watch would."

"It's also old-fashioned clockwork and not digital, so it's not like there's anything electronic about it to fry," added Heri. She then clapped her hands. "But since we've been down here with no rest so far, and it is high time for breakfast, why don't we take a break for a bit for drinks and snacks? There's an enchanted tent in Ollie's pack, too, so anyone can go to the loo if they need to."

Nico had never officially gone on a quest before, but he figured it must have really sucked to have to be on one without Heri there as well. He hadn't even before that moment thought about what they'd have to do if they needed to pee down here. Make do in a corner of the dark, creepy maze right in front of everyone else? Nico was ready to die just thinking about it.

D'Albion pulled out his stick again — his wand — and said some magic words that made a bright globe of light swirl into existence. With another flick, he sent it hovering in the air above their heads, illuminating the previously dark room like there was a huge window someone had opened the heavy blackout curtains of to a sunny afternoon.

Their flashlights were suddenly making things too bright.

"You could have done that the entire time?" asked Michael, his tone a mixture of relieved and indignant.

"It might not be a continuous spell, but it does draw on my magic constantly until I undo it," answered d'Albion. "Since we encounter beasts so often down here, I figured it would be better to conserve my stamina when possible."

As d'Albion explained, Ollie pulled the aforementioned tent from her backpack and pitched it the same way she had the tent of Cabin Null. With an echo-y snap, the tent unfolded itself and then rose into place as if inflated like a balloon. The outside was a lot more modern-looking than the one at camp; rather than something from a Renaissance fair, it looked more suited for actually camping in the woods. The support rods didn't dig into the ground — there was currently no ground for them to dig into — but somehow they still stood upright and sturdy atop the tiled floor.

"This one's a lot more basic than the one at camp," said Heri with an apologetic look on her face. "There wasn't time to find a better one. There aren't beds but hammocks, and I don't think there are enough that everyone here and those who'll we'll find can have one. But I'm assuming all of us brought bedrolls, so I suppose that won't be a problem. There's also a loo, a shower, and a kitchenette, so at least there's that."

Incredulous looks and sounds arose, no one could muster what it would take to put into words why Heri's statement was so unbelievable.

"Hey, Heri . . . how come Mr. d'Albion uses a wand, but Alabaster, Mimi, and Adam don't?" asked Nico when Heri pulled some chairs out of the 'basic' tent. This question had been in the back of his mind for a while. "Is a wand more expensive or something?"

"It's a matter of how our magic functions, actually," said d'Albion, snagging the seat on Heri's right and leaving her left to be passive-aggressively fought over by Luke and Alabaster.

Heri nodded absently as she pulled out a grapefruit and began to peel it like an orange. Ollie climbed into her lap when she sat down.

"Yes, it's a matter of the magic," she said. "Allie and his siblings have magic because of their mother's blessing. Her children are basically unanimously capable of wielding magic, but that's because she chose that to be the case. As the patroness of magic, she could just as easily choose for a child to be completely mundane beyond the demigod part. And so the abilities of a child of Hecate's doesn't really need training or equipment to use — just say the name of whatever spell and it just happens."

Grapfruit fully peeled, she gave half to Ollie and the other half to Nico.

"Because their spellwork is technically always an invocation of a Higher Power's powers rather than their own," she carried on, pulling out a pomegranate, "they're Warlocks — capital-W Warlocks — rather than any other sort of mage. (Knife, please, Ollie.) And so when it comes to casting, it's like shooting a crossbow that someone else loads for you — you'll need practice to get used to pointing and aiming, but it's not as physically trying as, say, using a bow and arrow."

She handily cut around the head of the pomegranate, pried it off like a lid, and then sliced deftly between the sections. That done, she starfished the fruit so that the seeds were cleanly out in the open and easy to pluck out.

"Meanwhile, the magic Neville and I have is inborn." She handed the prepped pomegranate to Amalia. "It originates from us rather than a Higher Power, and it's the bow and arrow in this metaphor. Or rather, the wielding of it via wand is.

"Our magic is like a muscle to us; we have to train for years while slowly working up to more and more difficult spells until we can be considered proficient. Some wizards are above and beyond others and can cast without a wand altogether, but that's the very rare wizard. To a wizard — or a hedgemage, of course — casting with a wand is like painting with a brush, while without one is like throwing the bucket at the canvas.

"Sure, you can brute-force certain spells that are empowered by how much force you pour in, but most spells outside of offensive magic aren't like that. Even the most powerful amongst us prefer the control and precision a wand provides. Why rub two sticks together to make a fire when you have a lighter, you know?"

Saying this, she tossed a couple of bananas at Luke. They looked like they were going to smack him in the face, but he plucked them out of the air before they struck.

"So . . ." Nico digested the information, chewing slowly on orange segments. "So Alabaster doesn't use a wand because it's pointless for him?"

"Mostly pointless," said Heri. "Allie doesn't really seem like he does any magic that would require a Warlock to use a wand, after all." Heri turned and said to Alabaster, "Have you ever even wanted to do anything but combat spells? I've seen you summon walls of ice and flurries of wind and such on the training field, but have you ever wanted to just . . . oh, I dunno . . . turn a friend's hair blue or give a dog hands?"

D'Albion made a face as he sipped on a juice box and asked, "Why would anyone want to give a dog hands—?"

"Are you telling me that doesn't sound exactly like something the Weasley twins would do at some point?"

D'Albion actually paused and thought about that.

"Alright," he eventually said. "That's fair."

"That doesn't really . . ." Alabaster slowly began to say, fidgeting with his thermos. He took a ziplock of dried apricots Heri handed him with a nod of thanks. "That doesn't sound very useful, though."

"Well, I guess that's another difference between a Warlock and any other sort of mage," said Heri. "For us, magic is another facet of life. For you, it's a tool. Or maybe that's just you specifically — who knows? I shouldn't generalize like that. Adam and Mimi hardly use magic just to fight, after all."

"Wait, so what's sorcery, then?" asked Silena, munching on a granola bar. "What's a sorcerer? This whole time up till now, I always thought all these words were just synonyms for each other."

"Oh, sorcery. Well, sorcery doesn't require any innate or gifted magic, but rather the manipulation of an enchanted object. Neville mentioned it earlier, when we were discussing if it would be possible for Michael to brew potions — even completely magicless people can use a schema like the Mist as long as they're taught the mechanics of it. That's sorcery. Of course, the modern usage of the term 'sorcerer' is typically for mages that are really skillful at offensive magic and using different magical tools. Allie would be considered a sorcerer as well, using this metric."

"You as well, my Lady," d'Albion added.

"Aren't you a Warlock, too, Heri?" asked Amalia, her mouth looking bloodied from her pomegranate. "You're a half-blood that uses primarily magic, right?"

"I'm not a demigod of Hecate, though," Heri answered.

"You don't know that," Michael pointed out. "You're still unclaimed, right? Maybe if you tried doing magic the way a child of Hecate does, it would work for you, too."

"Erm. . . ."

Heri and d'Albion exchanged looks.

"I know who one of my divine parents are," she said after a moment. "He claimed me when I was fourteen and was participating in this inter-school tournament our school was hosting. The one I don't know about is my divine mother."

"You've been claimed this entire time?!" Erupted Clarisse at the same time Silena asked, "How do you know the other one is a goddess?" and Luke exclaimed, "Why didn't you say anything before?!"

"Wait, didn't you find out about gods and demigods at the same time me and Bianca did?" cried Nico.

"I didn't realise it was a big deal before, but Chiron asked me not to say anything about the identity of my divine parents last night," Heri explained. "Apparently there's some rule against non-magical demigods being told a certain fact, and so those who already know aren't supposed to tell those who don't know. Sorry." She shrugged sheepishly.

"There's a taboo surrounding the identity of your parents?" said Michael, eyebrows shot high.

"Apparently. Well, I don't think it's about my parents specifically, but my divine father at least is part of the thing you're not supposed to know. Can't say about my mother for sure — still don't know who she is, after all."

"She shouldn't be," said d'Albion. "Lord— I mean . . . Your father's subordinate said she was an Olympian, after all, didn't he?"

"So . . . so, her mother still could be Lady Hecate, then?" asked Michael. "I mean Lord Hades and the other gods of the Underworld don't live on Olympus, but they're still considered Olympians since they sided with Lord Zeus during the overthrowing of the titans, right?"

Heri hummed thoughtfully.

"I suppose that's true," said d'Albion, "but the reason I doubt it is because my Lady has long been confirmed to be a wizard."

He shifted in his seat into a straightened posture and began to explain.

"While a child of Hecate can be a mage of our sort, as well . . . it's harder to tell if the ability is innate or their blessing than if the demigod was a child of . . . say, Lord Ares or Lady Demeter. The only way to tell is if a school of magic comes knocking at secondary school age. Until then, even if the mortal parent is a mage themself, they wouldn't risk letting a wand — which is meant to be a magic amplifier in the beginning stages — being anywhere in grabbing reach of a Warlock child. To do otherwise would be risking a significant explosion of the wand itself and damage to anything in range, living or not.

"But that wasn't the case with my Lady," he continued. "Her parents invoked Her divine mother to have Her, and while that business is usually kept private, they would have said something to my Lady's godparents at least if they were risking an infant Warlock. But they didn't even make it known that they'd succeeded. Not even my Lady's godfather knew She was a godborn until much later after She was claimed by her father."

"But couldn't Hecate have adopted Heri later on?" asked Luke. "A god adopting a half-blood is one of the ways a Twice-Blessed is created, right?"

"You're not wrong about that, but it was my divine father who adopted me," said Heri. "The subordinate he sent to acknowledge me said so. I nearly died as a baby, but I apparently really refused to go, and my divine father — who my mortal father had invoked to try to save our family of three — decided that was very worthy of me and helped me keep on living by making me his kid as well. It was also compensation for arriving too late to save my mortal mum and dad, supposedly."

"Wait, what happened to your mortal parents?" asked Amalia with a confused frown.

"Ah, well . . . Neville explained some of it last night," Heri said slowly, "but I guess not all of you were there to hear about it. And I suppose Neville didn't get too much into the nitty-gritty."

Heri jabbed a straw into a Capri-Sun and took a fortifying sip.

"You see . . . back when Neville and I were born . . . magical society of the British Isles was in the midst of a reign terror at the hands of a violent and powerful hate-group, and they were going around abducting government officials and killing people that didn't meet their standard of 'pure'," she explained awkwardly, as if what she was saying was embarrassing rather than horrific.

"Wizarding society of the British Isles has historically been discriminatory towards non-magicals and magical beings, but like mundane human society, we've been steadily making progress towards greater acceptance."

"These most recent years, bigots are a small minority," d'Albion added. "Heri famously being a half-blood — that is, a half-blood by wizarding definition, which is a mage who has a non-magical parent or grandparent — and notoriously powerful and a godborn shoved basically all of the anti-Muggle talking points back into their faces. And after she did away with the leader of the Death Eaters, even the mouthiest of those cowardly old bastards stopped sticking their garbage opinions out."

"And that's fantastic," said Heri with a nod. "That being said, violent bigots have constantly been fighting to keep their 'right'," — Heri mimed quotation marks — "to abuse and kill those they consider lesser beings. An especially malicious group of this sort started up their Nazi-esque bullshit back in the mid-seventies. The Death Eaters that Nev mentioned just now.

"My parents were part of a resistance group, and they were being targeted by the Big Bad even before a prophecy came out saying I would be the one to defeat Mr Big Bad. The night my divine father adopted me was the same night the leader of that terrorist group found where my family was hiding out because of a traitor from our side, killed both my parents, and then tried to kill me. But his spell backfired when it hit me, so he was the one that died instead, and I got off just injured.

"Father was supposedly all 'whoopsie-doopsie!' as he arrived late to his summoning with a Starbucks in his hand, remade my failing body with his own flesh, and then just fucked off again. And left me there in the ruins of house that just had its roof blown off by the backfire of an illegal Dark spell, to be found later. And let me be raised by my mortal mum's horrid sister's family."

Nico's mouth flapped uselessly a few times as he tried to decided what he should comment on first.

"I—" he stuttered. "You— Are you allowed to say that a god went and fucked off?"

"Well, if he has a problem with how I talk about him, he can come and tell me to my face about it," Heri huffed. "Who asked him to be an absentee parent? I know they're not supposed to raise us themselves, but I've literally never even seen the guy — at a distance or otherwise. He sent an envoy to dump gifts on me like back pay on child-support, but heavens forbid he even sends me a message in a dream or something. . . ."

Though the break resulted in one hell of a conversation, they soon enough began their trek once more.

Nico had stopped paying attention to where exactly it was they were going an hour into their trek, but he vaguely recognized then that that they went to the right . . . then the left . . . and then through a corridor of stainless steel like some kind of air shaft. Jarringly, they then arrived back in the Roman tile room with the fountain.

Despite knowing this was a labyrinth and such a thing would inevitably loop back around on itself — especially since this was one that was purposefully trying to get into their heads — Nico wanted to shout. He didn't, though, because before he could suck in a breath, he noticed that they weren't alone this time.

And when Nico saw what it was that had joined their company, he would have choked on his breath had he not being frozen in shock.

The first most notable thing were his faces. Two of them! They jutted out from either side of his head, staring over his shoulders. Because of that, his head was much wider than it should've been, kind of like a hammerhead shark's. Looking straight at him from his front, what was seen were two overlapping ears and mirror-image sideburns.

Was this a monster? One of those humanoid ones? Nico didn't remember any sort of monster among his Mythomagic cards, though.

The second most notable thing was how he was dressed. The guy was outfitted like a New York City doorman: a long black overcoat, shiny shoes and a black top hat that somehow managed to stay on his double-wide head. He reminded Nico a bit of the ones that used to stand outside the hotel he and his sister had lived in when their mom was still alive.

"Well, what's it going to be, Clarisse?" said the guy's left face, making Nico jump at the loud and sudden words. "Hurry up already!"

"Don't mind him," said the right face, smiling pleasantly. "He's terribly rude. Right this way, please, young madams and masters!"

Clarisse visibly balked.

"Uh . . . I don't . . ." As she faltered, she fell into what was apparently her default when it came to confusion — she scowled a scowl that got deeper and angrier the longer she remained confused.

Ollie peered around d'Albion's leg and blinked rapidly.

"That funny man has two faces!" she exclaimed wonderingly.

"The funny man has ears, you know!" the left face scolded. "Now come along. I haven't got all day, you know!"

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

The two-faced man regarded Clarisse as best he could out of the corners of his eyes. It was impossible to look at him straight on without focusing on one side or the other. At first, Nico didn't understand why he was asking to be talked to and followed of all things — did he think they were stupid enough to cooperate with a stranger that showed up out of nowhere in this hell maze? — but after looking around the room once more, it became clear.

Behind the two-faced guy were two exits, blocked by wooden doors with huge iron locks. Those hadn't been there their first time through the room. The doorman guy held a silver key, which he kept passing from his left hand to his right hand. He wanted Clarisse to choose which door to go through.

Nico half-wondered if this were a different room completely, but the mural of the gods looked exactly the same.

Behind them, the doorway they'd come through had disappeared, replaced by more mosaics. They weren't allowed the option of going back the way they'd come, it seemed.

"The only exits left are closed," Clarisse muttered, scowling even harder.

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

"Where do they lead?" Silena asked, resting a hand on the pummel of her sheathed sword.

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

"I– I know who you are!" Alabaster said suddenly, pointing, eyes going wide.

"Oo~ooh, he's a smart one!" the left face sneered. "But what does that matter? Do you know which way this girl should choose? Either way, make it quick! I don't have all day."

"Why are you pressuring us?" exclaimed Silena, stepping up to rest a hand on Clarisse's shoulder. "If you wanted us to make a good decision, you wouldn't be making us rush!"

The right face smiled.

"Good and bad are subjective. It doesn't matter to me which one you choose as long as you do choose. Besides, Miss Clarisse has always wanted to be the one in charge and make the decisions, hasn't she? Is this not exactly what she's always wanted?"

Any way you looked at it, that didn't sound complimentary. The left face might be harsh and sarcastic, but the right face was passive-aggressive and patronizing.

Clarisse picked up on the disdain as well. Her fists clenched like she was readying herself to throw a swing at the doorman.

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

Nico didn't know what they were talking about, but it sounded like it was about more than a choice between doors.

The look on Clarisse's face became more strained, and she noticable paled.

"No!" she hissed through gritted teeth. "I don't—!"

"Leave her alone!" Nico interjected loudly. "What's the point of targetting her? Who are you, anyway?"

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

"I'm your worst enemy," the left face said.

"I'm—!" they began to say in chorus.

"Janus," Heri cut in. "God of doorways, beginnings, endings, and choices."

The guy — god? — deflated at having their grandstanding upstaged. Both of their eyes that were closest to their front moved in tandem to glare at Heri for her interruption. But then — for whatever reason — they paused, eyes widening, at the sight of her.

She gave the god a bland but weighty look.

Nico didn't know if it was the uncertainty of the situation, but the air felt like it grew heavy then. It was like humidity had seeped in from some vent, but instead of muggy and sticky, it felt a little chilly — like someone had dunked him in petroleum jelly without him noticing.

"Curious that you're here," Heri idly carried on. "Considering that these are children of the Greek gods. And you are so very Roman."

Sounds of understanding and confusion erupted from every half-blood.

Roman? There were Roman gods, too? But weren't all the gods, titans, and monsters Greek?

Nico would have thought that it was just that he still didn't know much about the gods and being a demigod — that was why he didn't know the Olympians included the Roman gods, too. But it was clear from the confused looks on the older kids' faces that they'd been just as ignorant as well.

"The Twice-Blessed," both of Janus' mouths said at the same time. Their previous blithe demeanor was so suddenly gone that the lack of it made its previous existence startling apparent despite how before Nico hadn't noticed it. "How unexpected to meet you down here. You know more than your fair share about beginnings, endings, and choices, don't you?"

"But I'll have to get to you later, child of many names," said the right face. "For now, it's Miss Clarisse's turn." He then broke into a bright smile and laughed giddily. "Such fun!"

"Shut up!" the left face snapped. "This is serious! The stakes are even higher with the Twice-Blessed here! Imagine if Clarisse makes the wrong choice, and Miss So-Important dies for keeps this time! One bad choice can turn the tide of the war, girl. It can kill you and all your comrades. But no pressure, Clarisse. Choose!"

"We haven't even had the chance to think about it yet!" Silena protested.

"I'm afraid that spare time to consider isn't possible right now," the right face said cheerfully.

"Why not?!" demanded Michael.

The left face sneered at him.

"Because I said so."

Clarisse squared her shoulders and assessed the two doors intently. There was really no point, though — the doors looked exactly the same. Neither d'Albion or Heri could see any difference either; Janus must done something to distort whatever it was they'd been using to choose the safest path.

"Good door or bad door, said Heri with an encouraging tone, "we can face it either way. Didn't we come here expecting some serious fights to begin with?"

"I . . ." hesitated Clarisse, cracking her knuckles. "I choose—"

But before she could point to a door, a brilliant light flooded the room, beaming from behind them.

Janus exclaimed in alarm and raised his hands to either side of his head to cover his eyes.

When the light died, they all swung around to see what had happened.

A young woman was standing at the fountain.

She was tall and graceful, with long hair so black it almost looked blue braided with gold ribbons. She wore a simple but gauzy white dress — the kind of dress you'd see worn by a preacher's daughter on Sunday — but when she moved, the fabric shimmered with colors, like oil on water.

"Janus," she said slowly with gravitas. "Are we causing trouble again?"

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

"Yes!" the left face contradicted petulantly.

"Shut up!" the right face shouted.

"Excuse me?" the woman said more than asked, her words a cracking whip. Her tone that warning one moms would use when you were toeing that bottom line that got you grounded for month and a chewing out that scarred you into adulthood.

"Not you, milady!" said the right face, voice pitching higher. "I was talking to myself!"

"Hmph." the lady lifted her chin. "In any case, you know very well that your visit isn't warranted. This girl is not the one who will have to make a decision that could lead to mass disaster. So I give you a choice now: leave these questors to me, or I shall turn you into a door and have it chopped into woodchips."

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

"Shut up!" the right face said.

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

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

"Causing indecision," the woman corrected with a sniff. "And inserting yourself where your shouldn't. Now begone!"

The left face muttered, "Party pooper," then he raised his silver key, inserted it into the air, and disappeared.

The woman turned towards them, and fear closed around Nico's heart. Her eyes shone with power. 'Leave these questors to me.' That didn't sound good; this lady didn't exactly look friendly. For a second, Nico almost wished they could've taken their chances with Janus.

But then the woman smiled. This didn't actually make her look any more approachable considering it looked closer to how an animal would bare its teeth in warning than a show of human friendliness, but at least she was trying to show she wasn't out to get them? Maybe? At the very least, she didn't get any colder and more threatening than she had with Janus?

"I know you ate not long ago, but perhaps you're thirsty again," she said like a school principal summoning a student into her office. "Sit with me and talk."

She then waved her hand, and the old Roman fountain began to flow. Jets of clear water sprayed into the air. A marble table appeared, laden with pitchers of lemonade and various juices.

"Who . . . who are you?" Amalia asked in a small voice.

"I am Angelos, sometimes called Angelia." The woman's smile slipped away entirely. "Underworld goddess of proclamations. I come bearing messages from the parents of the unclaimed."

Amalia had never heard of a goddess called 'Angelos' before, but it was likely for the best that she kept that thought to herself. She hadn't met any gods beyond Dionysus at Camp Half-Blood, but this Lady Angelos gave off a much more formidable impression than Mr. D despite the fact that she must be a minor goddess.

But maybe Mr D simply didn't care about impressions when it came to the half-bloods at camp? Was he actually a hidden Boss? It was hard to think he'd be able to match the intimidation of this Lady Angelos, though — never mind surpass her.

Amalia had been so absorbed by this quandary since Lady Angelos arrived, she had completely missed Heri's reaction until d'Albion said something about it.

"My Lady, is there something wrong?" d'Albion asked attentively.

"No, nothing wrong," said Heri, blinking wide eyes. "It's just . . ." She looked at Lady Angelos and hesitated. "You. . . . I haven't seen you outside of catching the train for school since I moved in with my godfather! You haven't spoken to me since I was nine! And now you're suddenly here? I didn't even know your name until now!"

This caught more than just Amalia's attention.

"You've grown up well," Lady Angelos said before anyone else could say anything. She looked Heri over with an eagle-keen critical eye. "You used to be such an awkward, half-wild little thing. I'd been concerned that school of yours would instill unseemly mannerisms, but I see I was disquieted for naught. A shame your childhood malnutrition was never remedied, though; you would have grown taller as well that way."

She then waved a dismissive hand.

"Well, either way, your mother is pleased."

"You know who Heri's goddess mother is?" Luke demanded.

Lady Angelos gave him a bored, eyes-half-lidded look. She gestured to the table of drinks again.

"I have offered my hospitality. Do not do me the insult of refusing."

Hearing the warning in her tone, they all sat down around the magicked-into-existence table. Under the goddess' threatening gaze, they all poured themselves glasses of juice and sipped at them.

"Lady Angelos, you know who Heri's divine mother is?" asked Alabaster after dutifully drinking down half a glass.

"I do indeed," said Lady Angelos, seated regally in her own chair. "I was tasked by that very goddess to look in on the Twice-Blessed over the course of her childhood whenever I had a spare moment. Though I cannot speak the name of that goddess for now, she has always been fond and concerned over the matters of her daughter."

"If she cares so much, why is Heri still unclaimed by her?" asked Luke, a sneer building on his face.

"Don't presume to judge and make accusations," Lady Angelos said slowly, "when you are ignorant of the full picture and all the pertinent matters of the situation. Especially when none of it has anything to do with yourself."

"Since your ladyship knows of my Lady's divine mother, and has kept eyes on my Lady since an early age," d'Albion began to say, "would it be correct for me to presume that you have a similar relationship to my Lady's mother as Lo— that the relationship between you two is like that of my Lady's divine father and the envoy he sent to watch over Her after She was claimed?"

Lady Angelos blinked at d'Albion.

"Well, well," she murmured. "Aren't you clever with your questions? Unfortunately, I can neither confirm nor deny the validity of that presumption. It would reveal information that could be used to decipher that goddess' identity, after all. She has yet to determine the time to be right to do so, and it's not my place to give hints on her behalf. I'm simply here to let it be known that the time will come, and it has not been from a lack of desire to do so that she hasn't yet."

"If you're not a subordinate of Heri's mother, why would you be the one to deliver a message?" asked Michael.

Lady Angelos scoffed.

"Hermes and Iris are messenger gods as well — would you consider them subordinates of anyone specifically beyond the trappings of their domains? I am no more anyone's subordinate than any other god that pledges their loyalty to Olympus."

Luke exhaled a conflicted, "Huh." He set his jaw and said, "So, you're on the side of the Olympians . . . and not Kronos, then?"

"She was the one who told me as a child to send my prayers to the gods of Olympus," Heri defended immediately, "There's no question that she sides against Kronos!"

"But it's a sensible concern," Lady Angelos granted. "With the secrecy I must maintain, there was ample reason to suspect I and the girl's mother are advocates for the titans. You may rest assured, though, that controversial loyalty is not amongst the reasons for secrecy."

She then looked over the other half-bloods.

"But I come not for the Twice-Blessed alone. Amalia Baumgartner, your mother bade me to let you know she watches avidly for the moment you display your power, for it will be at that moment that she will have the grounds to justify your creation and advocate for you not to be smote by her spouse. She does not claim you until then for the sake of your life."

Before Amalia could even think of something to say to that, Lady Angelos turned her eyes on Nico.

"Niccolò di Angelo, your father awaits for a similar such occasion for a similar such reason. Your blood-sister has been spared the fate of potentially being smote due to her induction as a Hunter of Artemis, but you have no such shield. Prove your might and more importantly your intentions to remain loyal to Olympus, and your father will protect you as much as he can when the time comes."

"Why does Nico specifically have to prove he's loyal to Olympus?" asked Silena. "Is his father under suspicion or something?"

"You may rest assured that I would do no favor for anyone whose loyalties are under question," said Lady Angelos. "But that is all the information on the message-sender I will allow to be known."

"No god would normally be so circumspect when it comes to claiming their child," said Alabaster, crossing his arms. "Their reasons all boil down to they personally don't feel like it would be beneficial to do so. There's no reason for a god to worry about their child they want to claim being smote if they personally haven't committed some awful crime yet or if their child hasn't.

"With Amalia's mother, the threat is from that goddess' husband — unfortunate but understandable. Married gods don't appreciate their spouse's bastards any more than married goddesses do. But for Nico, the threat isn't coming from a cheated-on spouse but . . . the gods in general? That's the implication here. But the only way that could be the case for a normal god is if Nico's father was some sort of criminal. However, based on Lady Angelos' own oath that she would not associate with such a god, Nico's father can't be treasonous. So why would there be a concern about Nico being smote if the threat isn't coming from a scorned wife?

"What kind of half-blood of a crimeless god would be under threat of being killed just by being claimed? Which half-bloods have been under that specific threat? The only ones I can think of are Percy Jackson and Thalia Grace, so. . . ."

Everyone grew more and more tense as Alabaster's thoughts came out and the implications become more obvious.

Nico could scarcely consider what Alabaster was implying. Could Nico be a child of the Big Three like Percy? If so, which one? Was he brothers with Percy or siblings with Thalia? But he did show any sign of any sort of power that pointed to any of those three gods. . . .

"I can neither confirm nor deny the validity of your reasoning," Lady Angelos said eventually. "However, it must be said that Hecate's children really do know how to think. A worthy companion for the Twice-Blessed."

Alabaster looked equally pleased and peeved by that response.

"My business here is now done," Lady Angelos then said, standing up.

"Wait!" Amalia couldn't help but exclaim. "Is there really nothing else you can tell me about my mother? I don't even know what sort of power I'm supposed to be trying to show off!"

"If you cannot figure that out on your own, to what end would she even claim you? To reveal a weakness?" Lady Angelos said cruelly. "She leaves you nameless for the sake of your life; if you cannot prove yourself to be strong enough to face such a common challenge, then you are not strong enough to be acknowledged. If you are too weak, then it would be safer to leave you unclaimed. What else is there that you need to know?"

"There's no need to be mean," Heri admonished, immediately coming to Amalia's side. "She doesn't even know where to look to begin to start — wanting some sort of hint makes sense."

"You are too tender-hearted for anyone's good, girl," said Lady Angelos with a mien of disdain. "Were you not given even less information when you were her age? And did you not rise up to the challenge without even knowing it was there? Coddling the child will only make her useless."

"A person's worth should not be based on how much 'use' they can be!" Heri argued back. "And I would have been very grateful if I'd been given some help on what exactly I was supposed to do with the mess I was handed to handle! Just because I went without doesn't mean I think no one should receive better!"

Lady Angelos waved Heri off with a roll of her eyes.

"Enough. I did not come here to mince words. My work here is done, so this is where I leave you. Farewell, little heroes."

Heri looked like she had more to say, but the goddess was true to her word and left as she came. Or, well, not exactly as she came — rather than in a flash of bright light, she melted into black ooze and dissipated into the shadows.

"Oh, she just has to have the last word," Heri griped, crossing her arms.

"Are you particularly close to her, my Lady?" asked d'Albion. "You seem to know her well."

"I doubt it can be considered 'close' since she really hasn't ever spoken to me again after that time she fixed my eyes, but she's been constant if nothing else." Heri sighed. "I used to wonder if she was my mother after I found out about the demigod thing. Apparently not."

"I never knew there was another messenger goddess," Silena commented, eyes on where Lady Angelos had disappeared. "It's a bit strange we were only ever told about Lady Iris."

"Maybe Lady Angelos is exclusive to the gods?" Michael suggested, downing the rest of his glass of juice as he finished his words.

"But you would think that we would have at least heard of her," said Silena. "Like, okay, none of us have exactly studied Greek mythology at a college level or whatever, but . . . surely a messenger goddess wouldn't be that obscure?"

"Well, not too many people know about Arke either," said Alabaster. "And she most definitely has been involved in more myths. Perhaps Lady Angelos was simply never interested in interacting with mortals."

"Who's Arke?" asked Nico, looking from face to face.

"The sister of Lady Iris," replied Alabaster. "She also served as a messenger, but she sided with the titans during the Titanomachy, so after the gods won, Lord Zeus ripped her wings off and threw her into the void of Chaos. She's effectively dead now."

"Gods can be killed?" Nico said incredulously. "But isn't that the complete opposite of the whole immortal thing?"

"Nothing is immune to the inevitability of death," said d'Albion. "Some things are just more resistant to being killed. Or have a lifespan humans simply have no means of calculating. But in Arke's case, that is not death. She was sent to suffer something worse. Depending on the strength of her sense of self, she might still be suffering even now; for a god to involuntarily Fade is not to just die but for the soul to be forcefully disintegrated as well. Grain by grain. In comparison, death would have been far more merciful."

Amalia felt a little sick at the thought.

"How uplifting, Neville," Heri sighed. "Well . . ." She looked about the room. "The two options Lord Janus presented for us are open."

"Right!" exclaimed Silena, moving to assess the returned entrances as well. "Which way are we feeling this time—?"

"Left!" Ollie suddenly called out. She stood straight and still.

Clarisse frowned.

"Why do you say so?"

"Because something is coming from the right," Ollie said, staring unblinkingly into the darkness of the entrance she meant. "Something much bigger than the beasties that Misses and Sirs fought before."

Well, that didn't sound good.

"Left it is," said d'Albion, immediately pulling Heri along, his wand readied in his other hand.

Ollie skittered up Heri's back as Heri reached out her free hand. Four people reached out for it instinctively. In the jumble, Amalia was the one who actually latched onto Heri, but Nico snagged Amalia's other one, Alabaster got Nico's other one, and Luke ended up with Alabaster's, bringing up the rear. Their human rope looked a little silly, but since Luke was the only one who actually need an open hand to wield his weapon, none of them were compelled to let go.

Michael, Silena, and Clarisse brought up the rear, moving half looking backwards to keep an eye on what was coming their way.

At almost a run, they all plunged into the dark corridor.

Despite the speed they were travelling at, they soon heard ominous and thunderous footsteps thudding behind them. Whatever it was wasn't going at a run by any means, but it was still gaining on them. How big did whatever it was have to be?

"Some sort of giant maybe?" Alabaster suggested, half-panting. Sue him, alright? He wasn't a physically-blessed sort of half-blood.

"Keep it down!" Clarisse hissed at him. "It doesn't seem to actually be chasing us on purpose, but that doesn't mean it won't if we're loud and let it know we're here!"

"Will that even matter when it'll inevitably catch up?" Alabaster bit back.

"Maybe we should stop and just ambush it when it gets here?" Silena suggested.

"In a long empty hallway?" scoffed Michael. "There's no chance of ambushing it, it'll see us right away!"

"We need another room or crossroad or something!" Luke groaned.

"Not with this death maze trying to kill us!" Clarisse snarled.

"There must be something we can do!"

If there was, no one could think if it at that moment.

"Charge back at it?" said Nico.

"Clear the way!" d'Albion suddenly commanded. He shouldered through them as they skidded to not run into him, and then shouted a spell, whipping his wand forward.

At first, it looked like the hallway was suddenly collapsing, but a longer look disproved that. Instead, stones of all sizes were budding off the walls like amoebas and flying out to lock together, blocking off the way they'd come. Though the line of sight was blocked in a matter of seconds, d'Albion still held the spell, letting more and more stones thicken the wall he'd made. He only stopped after the wall had to be at least twenty feet deep.

"That should hold it off for a while," he said. "It should buy us enough time to calm and manifest another room."

"Good thinking, Nev!" Heri cheered. "Those stones are extensions of the Labyrinth's walls — whatever kind of giant that's back there, it'll have a harder time than with a regular wall."

"Good timing as well," said Michael, looking towards the direction they'd been running. His flashlight was up to full blast and pointing forward. "This hall's a dead end."

Before them was smooth rock, with no fault to be found anywhere.

"Blast it, maybe?" Alabaster suggested, pursing his lips.

This wasn't the first dead end they'd run into, but it was the first time that they didn't have the option of turning back to find a different way.

Clarisse shrugged.

"Try it."

Alabaster called out a fireball the size of a wild boar. It rammed into the dead end wall in a blazing inferno that should have melted the stone into magma.

Alas, the stone remained un-magma'd. It didn't even look singed.

But Alabaster didn't have the opportunity to be embarrassed because it was then that d'Albion shouted his own spell, waving his wand in a jagged gesture. A bolt of lime-green flashed out and struck the wall, but that, too, failed to make a dent.

Growling, d'Albion swung outward as if flinging a knife and cried, "BOMBARDA MAXIMA!" sending visible ripples through the air. The spell landed heavily, but rather than doing whatever it was supposed to do, the blacklash shoved them all back several feet, knocking all but d'Albion and Clarisse off their feet.

"Should I give it a try?" Heri asked as she climbed back onto her feet.

D'Albion made an 'after you' gesture.

At first Alabaster thought she was going to cast a spell, too, (he'd yet to see her do any magic other than brewing that truth-inducing potion that Luke had to ingest) but that supposition was swiftly overturned. Instead of pulling out some magical medium, Heri balled up her fists and rubbed them knuckle-to-knuckle against each other, as if warming them up. Lo and behold, her fists began to glow, growing a brighter and brighter pastel pink as the seconds passed. Soon enough, they were brighter than the day before, when she had punched d'Albion's spell out of existence.

When it looked like she was holding a firework mid-explosion in her hands, she braced herself in a running stance, took a centering breath, and then burst into a sprint towards the stubborn stone wall. Once in strike range, she swung her left fist out with a guttural "HAH!"

CRACK!

The sound of struck stone rang out. Heri's fist was buried up to her elbow, thick cracks spiderwebbing away from the place of impact.

"Alright~!" she cheered. Without another word, she pulled her arm out and began swinging rapidly against the wall with both fists.

BANGBANGBANGBBANGBANGBANG—!

It was like they were on the inside of a mountain during a rockslide, like hundreds of cannons were being shots one after another within split-seconds of each other. Dust flew everywhere. The sound of stone cracking, shattering, and being flung away from the force of the blows were deafeningly thunderous — like, imagine cars crashing into each other, but it was the entire highway.

And then, all at once, the cacophony stopped. The sudden quiet rang in Alabaster's ears.

"I made it to the other side!" Heri exclaimed, her voice muffled as if coming from across a distance. "And there's a door here!"

Once the dust settled, they could see a hole — a tunnel, really — nearly as tall as Luke and as wide as two Clarisses crudely cratered opened in the previous dead end. Rubble of all sizes framed the handmade entrance.

"Oh, my gods," Silena exhaled faintly.

In awe, they stepped through the pathway Heri carved out for them. Some of them had to crouch a bit to get through and avoid the jagged top, but it was by no means a tight fit.

They met Heri on the other side, standing by the door she had mentioned.

The aforementioned door didn't fit at all with the aesthetic of the corridor they found themselves in. They looked to be in a some fancy Victorian-era opera house hallway, but the door looked like some grubby temporary thing you'd see at a construction site.

"Forward?" asked Heri, hand on the knob.

When she received unanimous nods, she turned the handle and pushed open.

They stepped into an actual, literal construction site.

They had found an exit out of the Labyrinth.

The cool, fresh air of the late winter afternoon stunned them for a moment, as did the sunlight that felt almost too bright after so many hours in the darkness with only flashlights.

The construction site they'd exited out onto was on the edge of a city block. Not a construction worker was in sight, but traffic was bustling not far off; they were maybe 30-40 feet from the road. As if in a dream, they walked slowly out onto the sidewalk.

"Are we supposed to be here?" asked Michael, face pointed towards the sky like a sunflower.

The city or town they'd found themselves in wasn't familiar to Alabaster, but it looked pretty much like any other city American city from where they were walking — there was nothing specifically identifiable about it yet. At most, it didn't like Massachusetts to Alabaster, but that was only because he was from there and knew the defining traits of that state.

"The prophecy said we would find the acolytes that also went missing," said d'Albion, looking cautiously in every direction, holding Heri's hand tightly. "It implied that would be near the end of this quest, but—"

"LORD ANSGAR?!" someone shrieked from across the street.

D'Albion stopped dead in his tracks, his head whipping around.

There, beyond the passing cars, was a young brown-haired woman dressed old-fashionedly pointing and gaping at them. Next to her was a young man of similar coloring and aesthetic gawking as well, mouth flapping.

"Ellingboe! Wolpert!" d'Albion cried, shocked and pleased.

Elated beyond reason, the two across the street immediately plunged into the on-coming traffic.

AN:

Okay, so, if it isn't already obvious, my latest hiatus was not at all planned or desired. It feels like a cop out to hand-wave and say 'urgent family issues,' but, yeah. Amongst other things, there was an issue that made it so I had to rush upcountry for an indefinite stay. It was sudden and took a lot longer than I thought it would, so I didn't take any other device with me other than my phone. Not that it would have made much of a difference considering the people I was staying with have no internet.

What was this sudden emergency? Well, to make a long story short, due to a combination of me being the only reliable relative and an elderly, sickly uncle of mine recenting birthing a child with his concubine from a dubious background, I have been entrusted by him to take up the care of my new baby cousin. Never thought I would raise a child in my life considering my specific flavor-combination of queer, but here we are. I'm going to do my best to finish this fic up before the kid actually comes under my guardianship, because I can already tell focus-moding on writing with a baby around would be no bueno.

If that was not enough, when I came back, suddenly my eldest auntie was under threat of losing her home because my eldest cousin stupidly co-signed for someone's car, and ended up being the one needing to pay up after the other person failed to make their payments. We were all running around like headless chickens about that until we mustered up the funds to pay everything off.

If that wasn't enough, the city has recently started fucking around with the water and electricity systems, so there have been stretches where I've had to live without running water and electricity for several days at a time. Considering I live where we get above 90 degrees every day despite it just being spring, you can imagine what kind of hell it's been. Most likely it's because we've been in the middle of a significant drought, so they're trying to conserve water until the rainy season that's already two months late finally hits, but that doesn't explain the fuckery with the electricty.

TL;DR: the beginning of this year has been awful for me.