013───────ஐ〰ฺ･:*:･✿the earth mother's son

    RACHEL ELIZABETH DARE IS the sort of person Lila would have been too scared to approach if she saw her around school or the city, but would admire from afar. When they reach the meeting point, she's standing in front of the Marriott Marquis, painted completely gold, every inch of her person gilded in aureate paint. Her cerise-shaded hair peeks out beneath the golden paint, causing the paint to reflect in different shades of rose-gold and amber. Rachel looks like the sort of person who would skip school to graffiti buildings with stunning art, or collect old records and black-and-white movies. 

      She's standing with four other students, about her age, all painted varying shades of metal. The bronze boy catches Lila's eye and the corner of his lip quirks up, but that's the only movement any of them make. They're completely frozen on their pedestal, immune to the gaping tourists and confused children. 

      A sign at Rachel's feet reads URBAN ART FOR KIDS, DONATIONS APPRECIATED. 

      That's pretty cool. 

      They stand there for a few minutes, but Rachel doesn't move. Annabeth seems to get angrier the longer they wait, face contorting with displeasure. "Maybe if we push her over," Annabeth suggests, a nasty smile on her face growing. 

       Lila's eyes widen, but Rachel doesn't react, still standing like a statue. One guy in bronze steps up to the podium, and the guy who'd smiled at Lila steps off. He's cute, with blond hair that's completely covered in bronze paint, and tan skin. Lila grins at him — he grins back. 

        He then walks over to talk to them, and Lila malfunctions,  unprepared for actual socialising. "Hey," he says. "Nice to meet you." 

       Lila says nothing. Annabeth elbows her. "Uh, you too." 

      "I'm Garrett," he says with a grin. Lila automatically smiles back — he just has that infectious energy that makes you want to smile. "You're waiting for Rachel, right?"

    "Yeah," Lila nods. She can't think of anything else to say, but thankfully he picks up the conversation before an awkward pause fills the space. 

      "She gets off soon," he assures them. "I was just — well, you're really pretty," Lila blushes incredibly red — gods, this is so embarrassing, what's she supposed to say to that? Nobody has ever really said that to her before. Oh, Lila is pretty sure her heart is beating twice it's normal speed, and she doesn't dare look at Percy or Annabeth. "So here's my number," he finishes, handing her a piece of paper. "Call me, I guess. If you want." 

      Lila's brain is short-circuiting. "... Thank you, uh . . . I'm Lila."

       "Nice meeting you, Lila," he grins, before turning and walking away, disappearing into the crowd despite being painted bronze. 

       After a pause for her mind and mouth to catch up, Lila turns back to Annabeth and Percy, who are staring at her — one is grinning, the other looks — well, never mind. "He was nice." She blushes again. She's not sure if she's more embarrassed that Percy saw all that or that he actually called her pretty. It's a little odd to admit, but being complimented by strangers is definitely a mood lifter. She tucks the number into her pocket. 

       Percy's eyes narrow. "You're keeping it?"

       "Yeah," Lila says, confused (and maybe a little defensive). She's still a little hurt by the almost-kiss the day before. "Why not?"

      "He's a mortal," Percy hisses, looking horrified. Lila sinks a little — he's right, Garrett is a mortal, but . . . 

      "So's Rachel," Annabeth cuts in, glaring at Percy. "You have her number, don't you?" Her tone is so accusatory that Percy takes a shocked step backwards. Lila nods in agreement, though she's not sure whether Annabeth is backing her up because of her dislike for Rachel, or otherwise. 

     (Lila notices that neither her nor Percy actually own phones, but whatever.)

     Speak of the devil. "Hey, Percy," Rachel says, stepping off the tarp and tucking her hands into her pockets. She moves so smoothly, you'd hardly believe she was just pretending to be a statue for charity. "Good timing!" she grins. "Let's get some coffee."

      They walk over to a place called Java Moose — with a large red sign and a white printed moose on all it's coffee cups, it's the sort of place Lila would usually avoid. The chairs and tables are all built of organic wood, instead of cheap plastic — which Lila appreciates, even if the menu has way too many coffee options to be normal. Rachel orders an Espresso Extreme, while Percy, Annabeth and Lila all order fruit smoothies. (Lila's is mango and passion fruit flavoured.)

      "So," Rachel says, settling underneath a giant stuffed moose. "it's Annabell, and . . ." 

      "Lila," Lila explains. 

      "Annabeth," Annabeth corrects. "Do you always dress in gold?" 

      Lila thinks it's a pretty obvious question to ask, but Rachel just grins and answers without a hint of irritation. "Not usually — we're raising money for our group. We do volunteer art projects for elementary kids 'cause they're cutting art from the schools, you know? We do this once a month, take in about five hundred dollars on a good weekend. But I'm guessing you don't want to talk about that. You're both half-bloods, too?"

       "Yeah," Lila nods, grinning. It's pretty cool, what Rachel is doing. It seems like she's genuinely  trying to make a difference in the world, changing things. Not just wasting away waiting for something to happen. 

       "Shh!" Annabeth snaps, looking around tersely. "Just announce it to the world, why don't you?"

       "Okay," Rachel says, standing up. "Hey, everybody! These three aren't human! They're half Greek god!" Lila's heart skips a beat, but nobody even blinks, probably assuming that they're just a bunch of immature kids messing around. Rachel shrugs, sitting down. "They don't seem to care." 

      Annabeth scowls. "That's not funny. This isn't a joke, mortal girl."

     "Hold it, you too," Percy cuts in, his eyes wide and worried, like he's about to witness a fight. "Just calm down."

     "I'm calm," Rachel nods, not looking very calm. "Every time I'm with you, some monster attacks us. What's to be nervous about?"

      "Look," Percy makes a face, like he's reaching the end of his patience. "I'm really sorry about the band room. I hope they didn't kick you out or anything."

     "Nah, they just asked me a lot of questions about you. I played dumb." 

      "Was it hard?" Annabeth asks. 

      "Okay, stop!" Percy exclaims, exchanging a despairing eye-widen with Lila, who merely shrugs. If Annabeth has a problem with Rachel, Lila will take Annabeth's side — she doesn't know Rachel, even if she does seem pretty cool so far. Lila would trust Annabeth's judgment over anything else, any day. "Rachel, we've got a problem. And we need your help."

      Rachel narrows her eyes at Annabeth. "You need my help?"

      Annabeth's fatal flaw is her pride, so this probably feels worse than lying in a field of thorns. Lila, however, has no pride, and is perfectly willing to admit it. "Yeah, we do."

      "Maybe," Annabeth adds, stirring her smoothie with a straw, a sullen expression on her face.

      "Yes," Lila adds. She feels a twinge of guilt plucking her heartstrings like a guitar at Annabeth's chastened expression. Lila's not sure what's up with her, but she seems to be slowly retracting into herself, slowly putting all her walls back up like re-fortified Troy. 

       Percy doesn't even react, instead explaining to Rachel about the labyrinth and what it is, why she's needed. His explanation leaves out a few things, like Luke, or Grover and Tyson, and simplifies some of the stranger parts of Greek Mythology, like Janus and Geryon. Two-headed, three-chested men are not the best introduction to their world, Lila muses. Already, Rachel's eyes are widened like she might bolt out the nearest exit at any moment. 

       "So you want me to guide you," she summarises. "Through a place I've never been." When she puts it like that, it sounds ridiculous. 

      "You can see through the Mist," Percy explains. "Just like Ariadne. I'm betting you can see the right path. The labyrinth won't be able to fool you as easily." 

      "And if you're wrong?" We'll die. 

      "Then we'll get lost," Percy says it so simply, it almost sounds like they're about to get lost in a completely normal maze, not a living deathtrap like the labyrinth. "Either way, it'll be dangerous. Very, very dangerous." 

      Wow, he's really selling it. 

      "I could die?"

      "Yeah."

     "I thought you said monsters didn't care about mortals," Rachel returns, sharper than a knife. "That sword of yours — " 

      "Yeah," Percy agrees, looking a little uncomfortable. They need Rachel, but it feels a little unfair to ask her to risk her life for this. Lila wouldn't be surprised if she just laughs and ignores their request. "Celestial bronze doesn't hurt mortals. Most monsters would ignore you. But Luke...he doesn't care. He'll use mortals, demigods, monsters, whatever. And he'll kill anyone who gets in his way." 

     "Nice guy."

      "He's under the influence of a Titan," Annabeth snaps, her tone wrapped in steel. "He's been deceived." 

       Lila says nothing. She's still undecided on the topic of Luke. Annabeth believes he can be redeemed, and Lila has always trusted Annabeth over anybody, even Percy —but Luke has done some terrible things. Everyday, the war looms a little closer, and Lila is beginning to realise that it's not just a fantasy anymore —  this is real, Luke and Kronos are coming, this is really the end. 

     Rachel doesn't react to Annabeth, only staring back at Percy. "Okay, I'm in."

     Percy blinks. "Are you sure?"

      Lila gapes, but Rachel only shrugs, brushing her hair behind her ear nonchalantly. "Hey, my summer was going to be boring. This is the best offer I've gotten next. So what to look for?"

      "We have to find an entrance to the labyrinth," Annabeth explains. "A section of wall. A boulder. A doorway. A sewer entrance. But it would have the mark of Daedalus on it. A Greek Δ, glowing in blue." 

      "Like this?" Rachel draws it on the table. 

     "That's it," Annabeth says, sounding surprised. "You know Greek?"

     "No," Rachel says, pulling a blue plastic hairbrush out of her bag and brushing her hair, leaving it speckled with gold. "Let me get changed. You'd better come with me to the Marriott."

     "Why?"

     "Because there's an entrance like that in the hotel basement where we store our costumes. It's got the mark of Daedalus." 

        The more they walk, the more Rachel seems to regret agreeing to join their quest, though she never falters or hesitates with her directions, she does seem a little unnerved by the dead cyclops and the rotting satyr, but that's okay. All in a normal labyrinths day of work. 

       They reach a crossroads in the path almost immediately, like the labyrinth is deliberately playing games. To the left, a tunnel like the one that Grover and Tyson took, covered in vines and tree roots, humming with energy. Lila can sense something moving beyond the guise of trees, and it doesn't seem friendly at all — plus, there's nothing calling to her as it did with the other tunnel. 

        To the right, there's more ancient architecture, bricks and stones that are half eroded, fading away and leaving the scattered dust paths along the floor. The tunnel is almost completely covered by mist, somehow — the normal kind, the type that obscures your vision in a mortal way. 

        "We need to go straight," Rachel says. 

        Annabeth and Percy both look shocked — Percy had been pointing out the left tunnel, and Annabeth the right. "That's the least likely choice," Annabeth points out. 

      "You don't see it?" Rachel asks, looking surprised, though she has the resigned look of someone used to seeing more than anyone else. Lila's not sure that it's a gift to see through the Mist. It always attracts trouble — with Sally Jackson, she found a god. Rachel, a demigod. Plus, how do the mortals keep themselves sane, when they always see a little more than everyone else? How can they be certain that they're not losing their minds? "Look at the floor."

      There's nothing, Lila swears it. Nothing she can see, anyway. 

     "There's a brightness there," Rachel insists. "Very faint. But forward is the correct way. To the left, farther down the tunnel, those tree roots are moving like feelers. I don't like that. To the right, there's a trap about twenty feet down. Holes in the walls, maybe for spikes. I don't think we should risk it." 

      Percy nods, without even stopping to reconsider it. "Okay. Forward." 

     "You believe her?" Annabeth asks, her tone swathed in apprehension.

     "Yeah," he says. "Don't you?" He looks back to Lila for an answer, too — she has none. She believes Rachel, though. Why would she lie?

      They descend forward into the corridor, though Annabeth seems to be biting her tongue in the effort to keep a scathing remark sealed behind her lips, but it doesn't matter. Lila kind of wants to reach for Percy's hand again — it's just comforting sometimes, to know he's still here, but she doesn't dare. Partly because of the almost-kiss, and partly because of Rachel. Instead, Lila just shoves her hands deeper into her pockets, and buries into herself a little. 

     The brick corridor twists and turns like a winding snake, but there are no traps, crossroads, or monsters waiting. It's deceptively easy — if Lila closes her eyes, she can almost imagine it being a simple, normal tunnel or cave, with nothing dangerous or out of the ordinary about it. It also seems to be burying further underground, perhaps towards the Underworld. 

     "No traps," Percy echoes Lila's thoughts, staring around at the walls in confusion. 

    "Nothing," Rachel says. "Should it be this easy?"

    "I don't know," Percy mutters. "It never was before."

     "That's a good thing, right?" Lila asks. 

     Nobody answers.

     "So, Rachel," Annabeth says, raising her eyebrows. "Where are you from, exactly?" The way she says it makes it somehow seem insulting, but Rachel barely blinks. 

       "Brooklyn," she answers. 

       Lila's been to Brooklyn a couple of times, but never for too long. Drew, Silena's sister, goes to school there — though she's always complaining about how much she hates it. The way she talks, you'd think it's worse than the Underworld. 

    "Aren't your parents going to be worried if you're out late?" Annabeth asks.

     Rachel exhales, the air slipping out of her lungs it's almost like she's deflating. "Not likely. I could be gone a week and they'd never notice."

      "Why not?" Annabeth doesn't sound so sarcastic, now. It's something they all can relate to (well, not Percy; he's got Sally). But Lila knows exactly what it's like when your parents don't care — gods, she disappeared for eleven years and her father was probably glad about it. And Annabeth's parents never treated her well, Lila knows. Annabeth has been trying to work on that lately, though. 

     Rachel opens her mouth to reply, but is interrupted by a huge creaking noise, and something grating along the floor — like a door opening. Maybe they spoke too soon about the traps.

     "What was that?" Annabeth asks, reaching for her knife. 

     "I don't know," Rachel shrugs. "Metal hinges."

     "Oh, that's very helpful," Annabeth snaps. "I mean, what is it?"

    Then Percy motions for them to be quiet, and Lila hears what he must be hearing — heavy footsteps, thudding so hard the earth is practically shaking. Something very big and very heavy is running toward them. 

"What do we do?" Lila squeaks, looking toward Percy. 

"Run?" he asks.

"Run," Rachel agrees. 

In unison, they whip around and rush back the way they'd come, but they get barely twenty feet before Percy stops in his tracks and Lila barrels into his back — he reaches out to steady her. Usually she'd grin or something, but she's more worried about the immediate threat — two dracaenae with their javelins poised to strike, and some kind of demon dressed in a cheerleader's outfit. Somehow, the cheerleader is the most threatening, with her pristine smile and sharpened teeth. 

"Well, well," the cheerleader says, crimson lips curling upwards into a malevolent grin, teeth bared in excitement. The dracenae, beside her, hiss, tongues jumping out. 

Lila grabs her spear, flipping the hairpin until she feels it's familiar weight in her hand, pressed against her skin like an extension of her arm. She tries to remember what Clarisse told her about using it in close quarters like this, but it seems awfully useless — there's nowhere to throw it, and there's not enough space to do any real damage to the monsters. Percy uncaps Riptide, the bronze casting eerie copper light around the ill-lit corridor, while Annabeth pulls out her knife. Rachel backs up. 

There's a moment of taut silence where neither side moves, before Percy lunges toward the nearest dracenae, and Annabeth steps toward the other, leaving Lila and Rachel with the cheerleader. When the demon steps forward, Lila, in some stroke of genius, remembers the seeds Hecate gifted her. Throwing them forward, and hoping that something dramatic will happen, she casts a quick prayer to the sky. It's useless. The cheerleader cackles maniacally, charging straight through them without even blinking. "Hecate is my patron goddess! You think I'll fall for her tricks?" 

In all honesty, Lila doesn't really understand how Hecate's tricks work, nor did she know that Hecate was the patron of these . . . things. 

The cheerleader lunges forward. Lila raises her spear, expecting a fight, but the demon completely ignores her, instead shoving her into the wall and leaving Rachel undefended. Lila pants a little, her shoulder aching from the shove (she dropped her spear from the surprise), but turns to fight back anyway — Rachel can hardly protect herself, she's only armed with a hairbrush — but it's too late. The demon's hand already reached for her knife, which she holds to Rachel's neck. Annabeth and Percy stop their fighting, holding their breath. 

Rachel meets Lila's eyes, and they're wild and panicked. Lila doesn't know Rachel that well, yet, but she has to do something, right? She can't just leave her like this. 

Lila's hand clenches into a fist, and the demon's knife turns into a sunflower. 

Completely bewildered, Rachel tries to peer cross-eyed down her nose to catch sight of the new flower sprouting beside her neck. The cheerleader takes on look at the flower in her hands and snarls, throwing it behind her shoulder, where it flops to the ground, looking very crushed and dead. 

Before Lila can raise her hands in defense, the demon lunges forward, her fingers turning into long, pointed claws. She shoves Lila back against the wall again, and slashes sideways, the claws shredding through the skin on Lila's stomach. She lets out a cry of surprise, while the cheerleader steps away. 

"Lila!" Percy calls, but the two dracenae level their javelins at his neck. 

Lila gasps, pressing her hand to the womb. Her shirt is already stained red, sticking to her skin, soaked through, but the cuts don't seem too deep — shallow, but wide. She needs to stop the blood flow, and soon. It stings too, every movement rubs the wound against her shirt, and more blood slips out. The pain is hard to think through — all she can do is clutch her stomach and hope she can survive long enough for Annabeth and Percy to figure out how to escape. She presses her lips together, trying to stop a cry of pain slipping out. Why am I so weak?

Annabeth tries to reach over, but the cheerleader stops her. "On your feet," she glares at Lila. 

Lila reaches for the wall, pushing herself up. Percy looks like he's about to kill something (and it's probably going to be the demon). Rachel is pale, as she stares at the blood, her eyes wide and unblinking. 

"Give her some ambrosia," Annabeth begs, her eyes narrowed. "If she bleeds out, she's no use to you." 

The cheerleader narrows her eyes. "Later. Now march, half-bloods. Or you all die here, starting with her." She points at Lila. 

They march. 

Lila, Annabeth and Rachel are separated from Percy almost immediately, which Lila would've complained about if she hadn't been trying too hard not to cry. It's embarrassing — it's just a scratch, she should be able to brush it off and continue, but instead her whole stomach feels like it's on fire, inflamed in different shades of crimson. 

You're so useless, she thinks to herself. Percy and Annabeth would never get hurt like this. What's wrong with me? Gods, Lila thinks she might just faceplant into the floor and stop breathing if the dracenae gives her a hard enough push. The only thing still keeping her standing is Annabeth's grip on her arm, so tight it might bruise, yet Lila's so grateful she can hardly breathe. Where would you be without Annabeth?

The arena they're in is pretty big, considering it's underground. In the centre of the floor, a centaur and a giant are fighting. It's a pretty unfair fight — the centaur has only a sword and shield, while the giant dwarfs him, while swinging a massive javelin that could decapitate someone in a single hit. 

The crowd, filled with giants, dracenae, demigods, telkhines, and a plethora of other monsters that look vaguely threatening, but Lila is too confused to identify. Around the arena are hundreds of skulls in various shapes and sizes, in all shapes and sizes, some in piles around the corners. Some are so old they were just ancient white bone. Others are fresher, dripping with rotting flesh and blood, stinking of death. 

Lila suppresses the urge to vomit. 

Watching over this, in the seat of honour, sits Luke Castellan. 

Annabeth draws a breath. "Luke," she says. 

Rachel looks over, understanding, and a sprinkle of horror, edging into her eyes. Lila's not sure what to say. He looks fine, seated like a king with a bronze chestplate, a white t-shirt and camo pants, surrounded by monsters (apparently his best friends, now). Beside him is a huge giant, with dark red tattooed skin. Lila feels as though she should recognise him — she can't, though. 

The cenaur falls, and the crowd roars, chanting "DEATH, DEATH." They're all clearly very civilised. Lila looks away as the giant's javelin swings, and when Lila turns back, there's only a pile of dust on the floor. 

"Good entertainment!" The larger giant beside Luke bellows, as the arena falls silent. "But nothing I haven't seen before. What else do you have, Luke, Son of Hermes?" 

It's funny how Luke claims to despise the gods, yet is still defined by his father, Lila thinks. He doesn't look very happy about the title, his jaw clenching and eyes narrowing, though he doesn't argue. 

"Lord Antaeus," Luke half-calls, voice ringing out so the crowd can hear every word, "you have been an excellent host!" —  host?  "We would be happy to amuse you, to repay the favor of passing through your territory." 

This is all some sick deal? Lila can hardly believe the guy she once thought of as a brother has turned into such a monster — actually, he's worse, because he's supposed to be one of them. He's a traitor of the worst sort. Once, Lila remembers she told Clarisse that everyone deserved a second chance. Not Luke, though. Here they're standing, Percy on the edge of arena, Annabeth looking as though she's about to cry, and Lila with her stomach losing blood quicker than she thought possible. Luke did this. 

"A favor I have not yet granted," Antaeus growls. "I want entertainment!" Gods, he's sick. 

Luke bowed. "I believe I have something better than centaurs to fight in your arena now. I have a brother of yours." He points at Percy. Brother? "Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon."

The crowd begins mocking and screeching out insults, and Percy is force to dodge a few well-aimed rocks. Lila tries to sink back into the floor in the hope that nobody will see her. 

Antaeus's eyes light up, like Christmas has arrived early. It's unnerving, how sadistically ecstatic he is about the prospect of a good fight. "A son of Poseidon? Then he should fight well! Or die well!"

"If his death pleases you," Luke says, like the slime-ball he is, "will you let our armies cross your territory?"

"Perhaps!" Antaeus replies.

Luke doesn't look too pleased about the "perhaps." Lila stifles a laugh (partly because of the pain) at his displeased expression as he glares down at Percy, as if in warning that he should die well. Percy won't die here, right?

"Luke!" Annabeth yells from beside Lila. "Stop this. Let us go!"

Apparently Luke hadn't noticed her yet, for his face pales and he stares down at them, suddenly looking rather guilty. "Annabeth? Lila?"

Lila hopes he can see the blood from up there. She hopes he feels bad about it. 

"Enough time for the females to fight afterward," Antaeus interrupts, and ashamedly Lila hopes that Percy's fight lasts a long time, just so she won't have to fight. Then again, maybe she should fight first, die quickly, keep Percy alive for the war. She's worth less, after all. "First, Percy Jackson, what weapons will you choose?"

Percy steps into the arena. "How can you be a son of Poseidon?"

Percy, Lila wants to call. Not the most relevant question at a time like this. 

"I am his favorite son!" Antaeus booms, and the crowd cheers in assent. "Behold, my temple to the Earthshaker, built from the skulls of all those I've killed in his name! Your skull shall join them!"

Ew. Lila edges away from the skulls in disgust. He killed all these people in the name of Percy's father? That's disgusting — such a waste of life, of effort, of resources, so unashamedly evil that Lila has never been filled with more hurt at Luke's actions. He left them. For this. 

And Poseidon did nothing to stop it. In fact, he might have encouraged it — gods are like that with tributes and gifts and sacrifices —  they thirst for them, adore them. Maybe the gods are as much at fault for this as Antaeus. But Antaeus should know better, allowing Luke into his home while honouring Poseidon, Lila thinks. Whichever way you look at it, it devalues Luke's cause against the gods, or it makes the gods look weak and stupid. Either way, he loses one of his allies, and if he kills Percy, it'll probably be the gods. You don't bite the hand that feeds you. 

"Percy!" Annabeth yells. "His mother is Gaea! Gae—"

The Laistrygonian beside Lila clamps his hand over her mouth, muffling her shouts. Lila feels another grab her shoulders, just in case Annabeth's moment of rebellion feeds her —  but Lila's too exhausted to think straight, let alone fight back. She just wants to collapse onto the ground and let her eyes finally close. Problem is, she's not sure she'll wake back up.

"You're crazy, Antaeus," Percy says, his eyes dark and unwavering. He meets Lila's —  she forces a weak smile, trying to tell him it's okay, but she must do a good job because he sends a deadly glare to the giant with a hand on her shoulder. Then he turns back to Antaeus. "If you think this is a good tribute, you know nothing about Poseidon."

The crowd erupts into insults, but Antaeus calmly raises his hand. "Weapons," he insists. "And then we will see how you die. Will you have axes? Shields? Nets? Flamethrowers?"

"Just my sword," Percy says.

Immediately the crowd begins to laugh, mocking him, but as soon as Riptide materialises back into his hands, where it should be, the cackles die down into nervous murmurs. Celestial Bronze has that effect on monsters. He spins it once, and the front row of spectators veer away in fear. Lila feels a little comforted. He's got this, right?

"Round one!" Antaeus announces, and Luke meets Lila's eyes once more. She glares at him —  he promptly turns away to watch the show, stoutly refusing to meet her eyes. The gates open, and a dracaena slithers out, a trident in one hand, a net in the other. Lila's seen people fight like that at Camp — she's fought them. Percy can handle this, no problem. 

And he does. The dracaena barely has a chance to throw her net, before Percy has jabbed Riptide through her armour and vaporised her with barely two steps. It didn't even look like a challenge. Lila would probably be cheering, but her knees are beginning to buckle under her own weight. 

"No!" Antaeus screeches, and Annabeth rolls her eyes. "Too fast! You must wait for the kill. Only I give that order!"

"Nice job, Percy." Luke smiles, the scar on his face rippling like mercury in the unnatural light. "You've gotten better with the sword. I'll grant you that."

"Round two!" Antaeus yells. "And slower this time! More entertainment! Wait for my call before killing anybody. OR ELSE!"

"What can he do?" Annabeth mutters, quiet enough that only Lila hears. "Kill us? He's going to do that anyway."

Lila doesn't get the chance to answer, for the gates open again, and her mouth drops wide open. She must be hallucinating, right? The pain is making her vision blurry. But no — there stands Ethan Nakamura, his black hair slipping into his face, his left eye covered by an eye patch. Lila remembers how he'd told her he planned to defect to Kronos. She'd laughed that off. And now he was about to die. 

Next to Percy, he looks deathlike, a corpse walking. His heavy armour is pulling him down, while his figure is so thin and wiry it almost seems to struggle to hold him up. He should be wearing less armour, Lila reproaches. Ethan's style is quicker and more skillful, not heavy and strength-based. He's shot himself in the foot trying to please Luke, while Percy looks as he always does. 

One of them is going to die. Lila hates herself for it, but she hopes it's not Percy. 

They're talking. What are they saying? Lila half-cares, half wishes Ethan would just turn around and walk away. This isn't right, this isn't how it should be. Why is he doing this?

He meets her eyes, sees the blood on her stomach. Turns away. 

Ethan charges first, and Lila's heart hardens a little bit. Maybe this is who he was, the whole time. Maybe he's just another Luke, another traitor who doesn't care about anything except himself, who doesn't see what a monster he's becoming. 

He can hold his own, though — Lila's not sure if that's good, or not. Their swords meet in midair with a resounding clang, and the crowd roars in answer. It's humiliating to fight for entertainment, Lila thinks to herself. It's more humiliating to die for it. 

The next few minutes are a blur — a heart-wrenching, shock-inducing, boring blur as nothing happens. Percy continues to dance around Ethan, who has apparently practiced since he left Camp Half-Blood, while Ethan struggles to get a good hit in, but still defends himself skillfully. The crowd begins to get restless, clamoring out for blood. 

It happens almost too quick for Lila to register — one moment, they are fighting, and then the next Ethan is on the floor, Percy standing over him. Annabeth cheers quietly, as does Rachel. Lila can't bear to look, pressing her eyelids together and turning away. Antaeus will hold his thumb down, and Ethan will die. 

This is Lila's fault. Maybe if she'd treated him better at Camp Half-Blood, maybe if she'd been kinder, or made him feel more welcome, maybe if she'd stopped him from leaving, he might be okay. Maybe this could be avoided. 

This isn't your fault, her conscience warns. It's Luke's. 

Lila figures they both share some responsibility. She's not sure who she hates more; Luke, or herself. 

"No one dishonors the games!" Antaeus shouts, and Lila's head snaps back in shock, to see Percy pulling Ethan back up. Her heart swells a bit. Percy somehow always knows how to do the right thing. "Your heads shall both be tributes to Poseidon!"

"Why don't you fight me yourself? If you've got Dad's favor, come down here and prove it!"

Forget it. That definitely was not the best thing he could've said. 

"I am the greatest wrestler in the world, boy," Antaeus says, looking unhappy. He doesn't have much choice —  if he refuses, he'll look like a coward. "I have been wrestling since the first pankration!"

Percy points his sword at Antaeus. "Winner takes all! I win, we all go free. You win, we die. Swear upon the River Styx." Oh gods, this is getting worse and worse. Lila's struggling to keep her eyes open. 

Antaeus laughs. "This shouldn't take long. I swear to your terms!" He leaps into the arena — the ground quakes when he lands. "Master Luke, you will referee this one."

Luke smiles. "With pleasure." 

They lunge — Percy stabs Antaeus almost immediately, and Lila's heart skips a beat. Instead of blood, sand drips from the wound, and the earth leaps up to heal him. Gaea. 

Lila remembers how she managed to make a dirt hand back at Geryon's. Was she channeling Gaea, then, instead of Demeter? It's probably just Lila's delirious mind racing, but it's all she can think of. She's too wounded to help, though — she can't even raise her hand to try and stop the earth jumping back up. 

"Now you see why I never lose, demigod!" Antaeus gloats.  "Come here and let me crush you. I'll make it quick!"

Percy makes another cut, and Antaeus loses so much sand you'd think he'd be empty. The moment his feet touch the ground, the earth jumps out. Lila grits her teeth, and shoves her palm out, and the earth stops. Gaea's one of the oldest deities to ever walk the earth, but she's also older and and deep in her sleep. Lila is here. 

The earth actually slows. Lila almost drops her concentration in her surprise, hardly believing it. Percy catches her eyes, sending over a grateful smile — it's not doing much though, Lila's wasting her last dregs of energy trying to stop Antaeus healing (Percy gets in another two hits, but not a killing blow). 

One of the other giants catches on. He backhands Lila so hard, she flies to the ground, and that's the last thing she sees.

people who update their fics regularly scare me

does lila pass out too often? im trying to make it realistic, she's not as used to this as percabeth and she's bad at accepting help, and needs *character developmen* but idk, i don't want to make her one of those annoying characters who does nothing but pass out constantly and contributes nothing to the plot

one reason this is so late is because i got completely distracted by the cafe java moose, so now i know basically it's entire menu, website, and what it looks like / where all it's branches are, which is some great useless information im never going to use because im not even american,,,,, but oh well, i only wasted like three hours :))) 

lyra